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And, to cap it all off, I want to feast over the whole damn package when he’s already rejected me. Rejected me when I was at my most vulnerable, most exposed—Bloody hell, I was naked and chained, for fuck’s sake!
Not that I can blame him for the latter. I put myself in that position on my knees, wanton, willing, teetering on the edge of climax.
I swallow past the wedge of humiliation as I navigate the pavement outside, careful to avoid the pooling water in my heels. Heels that match the vibrant red of my trench coat and lippy. An attempt at injecting colour into the grey office that has always been just that—grey, uniform, orderly, pristine. It was how we wanted it and it’s never bothered me before, but this last year... I don’t know. I want to change it. I want to change it all. I have no one to please, to acquiesce to, but myself now.
Unless you count the board, of course, and they can take—
‘Olivia!’
I stumble and curse, one foot landing squarely in a puddle, sending mucky water right up my legs.Dammit!
I don’t want to look behind me. In fact I don’t seem able to do much under the influence of my name being called in that gravel-like tone.
I can hear his hurried footfall on the pavement, catching me up, and I close my eyes, take a breath.
Valentine Boretti isn’t running away now. He’s chasing me down.
Could this day get any worse?
CHAPTER FIVE
Valentine
‘I’MSORRY,Ididn’t mean to startle you.’
Her ponytail sashays down her back as she shakes her head to the heavens and gives a high-pitched laugh. ‘Really?’
‘Yes, really.’
She lifts one leg to eye her splashed calf and assess the damage, and I force my eyes up to the tip of her umbrella. This woman and her extremities do things to me that I need to have under control.
‘You could have fooled me.’
It comes out under her breath, but I hear it, every grumbled syllable. And I know she’s not referring to the puddle incident; she’s referring to the whole damn lot. Today, four weeks ago. Any doubt that she remembers me departs with the fresh weight in my gut.
‘Look, can we talk?’
She’s busy eyeing her other calf now and I don’t want to look at her angled leg with the strips of red that start at her ankle and work their way down her foot, the daring colour and height of the stiletto heel sparking a fire that contends with the heavy guilt.
‘Talk?’
Her prompt comes out sharp and I realise her eyes are on me now, and I’m... I’m staring.Shit.I clear my throat, snap my eyes up to scan the street in search of shelter. The rain already has my suit turning navy, my hair starting to drip.
‘Yes,’ I say, squinting against the rain as I look back at her. ‘Please.’
‘I told you, talk to my PA and we can arrange—’
‘No.’ I frown as I cut her off. ‘I want to talk off the clock, away from the office.’
She eyes me as though seeing me for the first time. ‘Now?’
‘Yes.’
‘You realise you’re getting soaked?’
‘Am I?’
‘Your locks aren’t going to look quite so perky if you stay out here much longer.’
