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Any longer in that room and Giana was going to explode. That

was not keeping her calm, she chided herself as she raced up

the stairs to her bedroom. Not keeping her calm at all. She’d

never felt this way before. Like she was deliciously skirting

the boundary of everything that she told herself she could

never cross. She’d been in full and wild abandon when she’d

taken Coralyn up against the wall and she remembered how

that felt all too well. How it felt, above all, not to be so locked

down and afraid of her own emotions. Afraid of someone

else’s. The sex she’d always had was basically an agreement

and an arrangement. She went to clubs where people of the

same taste and mindset frequented. People who wanted to

submit. People who wanted to dominate. People in between.

People searching, people experienced. It made for a good fit,

but it had never been about anything more than a physical

release for her, whether she was on the giving end or the

receiving end of co-mingled pain and plea

sure.

She gathered what she needed from her dresser, and her face

got hot when she thought about Coralyn’s accusations. I know

what’s in that dresser. Giana hadn’t actually thought that

Coralyn would come to her house to do anything other than

apologize again and try to find a way forward that ultimately

led in an annulment and them going their separate ways. She’d

stated differently, but she was practical and smart, and she’d

had an independent lawyer discreetly prepare the paperwork.

He’d handled none of her business dealings in the past and he

was impartial and would keep things quiet because he was

obligated to.

Every step back to her office filled her with anticipation.