Page 104 of She's Like the Wind

Her expression goes emotionless, blank. “We don’t talk aboutthat.”

“Why not?”

“Dominic,please.”

Damn the woman! She uses her vulnerability, which you seldom see, like a weapon, like now.

She lets out a deep breath, stands up.

“I’m not giving up on us,” I warn her.

She doesn’t dignify that with a response, instead saying, “I’ll see you in half an hour for the kickoff meeting.” Then she turns on her booted heel and walks out of my office.

I resist the urge to follow, because this time, I’m not chasing her like a boy with a crush. I’m playing the long game. I came back to Savannah to win her heart. And I sure as hell didn’t agree to work on this project to watch her walk away from me.

She doesn’t know it yet, but we’re building more than a hospital.

We’re rebuildingus.

One brick. One fight. One stolen kiss at a time.

I’m not going to lose her again.

Can’t lose her, dipshit, if you don’t have her in the first place.

CHAPTER 2

Luna

Iwas twenty when Dominic Calder taught me my most valuable lesson.

Never love someone more than they love you.

I would’ve followed him anywhere back then—New York, Dubai, into fire, if he asked.

I was standing on the edge of my future, ready to chase after architecture schools that didn’t care about my last name or my family’s money.

He didn’t ask me to follow. He told me to stay.

Dom Calder didn’t just break my heart. He brokeme.

For the past decade, whenever he came to visit, I tried to stay away from him. When I couldn’t, I ignored him, which he didn’t make easy because he kept getting in my space.

Then there were times that I’d make sure I had a boyfriend for the duration of his visit.

Petty?Yes. Comforting to see him jealous and or annoyed?Also, yes.

Now he’s back…to stay. And I’m supposed to work side-by-side with him like none of that ever happened?

The hell with that!

I park my bike in front of Savannah Lace’s offices and give myself a full sixty seconds to breathe.

Deep. Even. Controlled. The way Dr. Monica Ryan, my therapist, taught me, after I got into more trouble than I could handle when I was in my early teens, before I fell in love with Dom, when I didn’t know how to handle my parents. And then after Dom, when I didn’t know how to handle myself.

I didn’t tell anyone what Dom did. If my brother found out, he’d have beaten him to death. Lev didn’t push when I told him I didn’t want to talk aboutit.

It’s our family trait—emotional constipation.