Page 39 of Redemption

Those clear, stunning aqua eyes meet mine, and she goes utterly still.

“It’s fine,” I soothe.

But she doesn’t calm. Her pulse remains elevated, and she doesn’t seem to be drawing in full breaths. Her cheeks are still far too pale for my liking.

“It’s okay,” I reassure her. “Breathe, Abigail.”

“Oh my god, Dane!” Abigail’s colleague, Stacy, rudely interrupts the intense moment we’re sharing. “Are you all right?”

“It’s just coffee.” I shrug, eager to be rid of her irritating presence. “I have time to change before work.”

The last is meant for Abigail. She still seems distressed about the mishap.

I’ve been holding her wrists for too long. It will seem inappropriate if I maintain the tender contact, so I force myself to withdraw.

Her arms drop to her sides, and her shoulders slump like she’s barely keeping herself upright.

“Look at me, Abigail,” I command. I can’t stand how upset she is. Not on the day I anticipated her giddy excitement about our date tonight.

Her eyes snap to mine, and I keep her locked in my steady stare, anchoring her to me.

“It’s all right,” I promise again. I don’t want her to think I’m angry with her.

“But I might’ve burned you,” she protests.

I can’t resist an arrogant smirk. “I’ve had worse than anything you could throw at me.”

The idea that this delicate woman could every truly harm me is amusing. And it’s rather adorable that she’s so concerned about my well-being.

“But your shirt?—”

“I have another one at work that I was going to wear after the gym.” I cut her off before she can spiral into anxiety over the mistake. “If you want to make it up to me, you can agree to go to dinner with me.”

Her pretty lips part, and for a moment, I anticipate her eager acceptance.

But she remains utterly quiet, and her breaths turn shallow again. Her eyes are still on mine, but her gaze is unfocused. The ground seems to shift under my feet, throwing me off-balance.

This isn’t going at all to plan.

“Abby?” I forgot Stacy’s presence until she speaks again. “You don’t look so good. If you’re sick, you need to go home.”

Abigail isn’t going anywhere until she agrees to a date with me.

“Come on,” I cajole. “Let’s get some fresh air.”

I gently grasp her elbow, and she allows me to guide her outside. She barely seems aware that I’m touching her. Thoselovely eyes remain unfocused, and her brow is furrowed with some mysterious worry.

Once we step out into the sunlight, she closes her eyes and finally draws in a deep breath. When she opens them again, her gaze is clearer, but guarded in a way I don’t understand.

Maybe I’m making her uncomfortable with my persistent physical contact.

But she moaned my name while she masturbated. She wants me.

I just need to break through her shyness and proper Southern belle façade.

I skim my fingers up her arm, enjoying the way her creamy skin pebbles with awareness of my touch. Then I rest my hand on her shoulder, grounding her to me.

Something—or someone—at work has upset her this morning. That must be why she’s behaving so strangely.