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Something about seeing Anton had cheered her. He was a kind person. And while she didn’t think she harboured romantic feelings for him, she hoped they might become friends. She liked spending time with him.
The phrase jarred in her mind.
It was how Caradoc had described what he felt for her. Such a lukewarm sentiment was appropriate for how she felt about Anton. But Caradoc?
She snapped the stems angrily as she stuffed them in the vase, her brief good mood evaporating completely.
She hadn’t finished the last flower when the doorbell rang again. She swore softly and stalked down the hallway, wrenching it inwards in frustration.
Time stood still.
Nature silenced.
The world imploded.
Caradoc.
Those eyes of his bore into her, his cheekbones were slashed with colour, as they had been after the depths of passion had driven him into a new universe.
She had only a moment to pull herself together, but she did it. She hardened her heart and ignored the querulous first instinct to pull him into her arms and beg him to kiss her.
“Yes?” She said with the same polite disconnect she might have employed to a new mailman.
His pupils darkened. He stared at her as though he was seeing her for the first time. As though he’d woken from a dream and here she was, the woman he’d conjured out of perfection, to match his needs completely. His breathing was ragged, like he’d run a marathon.
“What is it, Caradoc?” She prompted with the appearance of impatience. “I’m in the middle of something.”
“It will wait,” he said with the arrogance she had, at one time, found desperately attractive. But Anton was his perfect foil, and having been lavished with his kindness, Finn now found she had little patience for Caradoc’s dictatorial ways.
“Thank you for your opinion, but actually it won’t.” She narrowed her eyes. “Was there something specific you wanted before I slam the door in your face?”
Anger was good. It meant she still had feelings for him. He’d mangled them beyond recognition but they were there. “I came to talk to you.” He braced an arm on the door frame, his foot just inside. His own anger was bubbling beneath the surface but even he knew he had no right to feel it.
She pulled a face of disbelief. “I can’t think what about.”
“Bullshit,” he laughed harshly, and the sound sent spirals of lust flaming through her. It was a warning.
“I can’t do this,” she said honestly. “I don’t know why you’re here. But I need you to go.”
“I can’t.”
“Caradoc,” she spoke with a firmness he’d never heard from her. She was different. Something had clicked inside of her and she was loaded with a brave authority that made his heart almost stop. “I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to talk to you. You’ve always said, all along, that what we shared came down to my choice. And I chose to leave you. I’m choosing now not to speak to you.”
He swore again. “Don’t do this. Please.”
The word was rusty for how infrequently he used it.
Finn looked at him with consternation. What was he doing there? What did he want? She couldn’t peek into those rabbit holes. There was no good for her down either.
She didn’t say goodbye. She couldn’t. Her voice was starting to thicken with tears. She pushed the door shut slowly, and when his foot stopped its progress, she sent him a pointed look and then walked away, down the hallway into her home. She turned into the kitchen and pressed her back against the door.
Her meaning had been clear. Leave me alone. If you choose to come in you are doing something I don’t want. You’re not welcome. He swore and slammed his hand into the brick wall of her building.
She snapped the last of the flowers into the arrangement with no pleasure in the task. Her eyes were veiled by tears.
But the flowers looked good. She settled them on the table, and went back to the sofa. But she was too worked up to sleep now. Her hangover had passed; replaced by other darker, deeper feelings. She was restless. Desire was notched inside of her.
She pulled on her running gear instinctively. The Karate studio she worked out at was only a two mile run. It would be the perfect antidote for how he’d made her feel.
