by Kate Allure
He left her at the big entry doors. They stood there awkwardly, both unsure what the protocol was for brand-new friends who used to be enemies before becoming mystery lovers. They started to lean in for a friendly peck but pulled back.
He shifted on his feet, and she glanced away, embarrassed, hoping he couldn’t see in her eyes how much she wanted him to kiss her.
She shoved her hand out into the uneasy space between them, offering a handshake.
He reached out to take it, but the second their palms touched, electricity flared. Every erotic thing that connected them sparked into vibrancy. Their hands tightened, forming a perfect skin-to-skin bond. Their mouths tingled, wanting to meet. They leaned closer, two bodies wanting to become one in way as old as time.
She gasped and pulled away. He jerked his hand back just as quickly.
Their shared memories were equally present. Variously, uptight judge and arrogant barrister, mystery man and newbie cougar, Dominant and submissive. They were all of these at the same time and none of these any longer.
She ran, slipping in through the door, glancing back at the last second. He stood there motionless on the pavement watching her, his eyes filled with yearning. Regret and longing washed through her, too. Walking into her beloved Gothic palace, Tori tried to tell herself she’d made the right decision.
We’re friends now, and that’s a good thing.
But it would never be enough.
Chapter Thirty
“Hello, Justice Whittingstall. How nice to see you again.”
Rinaldo smiled at Tori, bowed formally, and tipped his chauffeur’s cap. He opened the door to the black limo, and she climbed inside.
Several times that day, she had nearly canceled on Rupert. There wasn’t any point in getting together. They were through as a romantic couple, and after that horrible argument in the club, she doubted they could even be friends.
He’d pleaded with her to hear him out and then sent a bouquet to her flat, an impersonal arrangement that didn’t include her favorite flowers. Maybe she’d overestimated his deep regard for her if he didn’t even know her favorite things after all these years.
There was also his duplicity, pretending to be a gentleman lover while holding a sex club membership and cheating on her. But maybe that was as simple as Rupert had said it was—that he believed his proclivities too debased for her. She’d already come to the conclusion that he’d put her on a