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Her mind kept flicking back to their time together, to blood rain kisses and words uttered, lingering in that afternoon for a dangerous second.
She dared not let it venture there for long.
It would kill her to recall it completely, and yet she could feel the need to fully examine their time building—a mounting pressure within.
Forbidden hours that she had buried for more than a decade.
Yet her body was reliving it now and she felt inflamed.
Oh, she really did want Beatrice now. For her to be at home to talk to or call. She needed someone who would understand how lonely times had been back then.
For him, too.
More so than she.
So much more so.
She was appalled now at the spite in her thoughts as she’d walked to work today, how she’d decided she needed Dante the rich man on-side...
She had been planning to use him, or at least try to.
But not inthatway.
Because the very last thing she needed was to desire him.
Her napkin had been folded and returned to the table and the waiter came with dessert menus as she took her seat.
‘No, thank you,’ Dante declined on behalf of them both.
‘Coffee?’ the waiter offered.
‘No,’ he said.
She was both hurt and relieved that he was wrapping things up, but she made a vague joke as she sat down. ‘I don’t get any dessert?’
‘You can have what you like, but I need to get on. So just say what you want to say.’
‘I’m sorry.’ She knew she couldn’t even look at him, but she tried to. ‘I do want something.’
‘I know.’
And again he was being kind at the oddest of times.
‘Alicia, I get it. Just tell me what you need.’
She had her audience, but she loathed her methods so much.
‘Come on.’
‘I’ve lost contact with Beatrice.’
‘Did you have a row?’
‘No, nothing like that. I lied to you that afternoon...’
Thatafternoon...
‘I’m not with you,’ he said.
