SeduceMe(42)

She visibly softened. “Maybe that’s why I’m so agitated.” She turned to Drake. “Shana has some issues, no doubt about it. But this past year, she’s really made an effort to break out of the insecurities that confine her. I don’t want to see her revert into that shell she’s constructed around herself, Drake. She’s such a warm and wonderful person. She’s so giving and caring when it comes to other people, but she doesn’t extend herself the same courtesy when it comes to her self-image, and I want that to end. She’s a fantastic person, Drake, and I—”

“Want her to know it,” he said. “That makes two of us.”

“Three of us,” Finn added in a pointed voice. “So, Yvette. Let Drake do what he needs to do.”

He scowled. What he needed to do involved getting up close and personal with Shana and that would be hard to do without breaking his new conviction that he should just leave her the hell alone because she deserved so much better than him.

Yvette, however, seemed convinced he’d do the right thing. She touched him on the arm and said, “I was completely out of line and, again, I’m terribly sorry. But Finn is right. You’ll fix this.”

He had to voice his truest thoughts. “I care about her, make no mistake. But she deserves more than me.”

Yvette smirked. “Oh please. You’re a catch times ten.” Finn shot her a look and she quickly amended, for his sake, “You’re a catch times eleven, my love.”

“Yeah,” Finn replied in a dry tone. “Whatever.”

She laughed. Drake wished some of his tension would ease. He wished he could share the same obvious love and attraction with Shana that Finn and Yvette shared. But in order for him to make Shana truly see the beauty she radiated, he’d have to find some way to make up for the way he’d bruised her pride and her body.

Again with that double-edged sword. He wanted her, but could he really have her?

Yvette gave him a hug and Finn shook his head. They left his office and Drake tidied up. Then he contemplated his next move.

And dragged a few empty boxes from the storage closet to pack up his favorite books.





Chapter Eight



Shana curled up on the chaise lounge overlooking the New York City skyline from her living room, her knees pulled up to her chest. Resigned to being an Old Maid, she flipped through the current issue of Vogue magazine, not really seeing the pictures or the words on the pages. Her tears had dried, but she’d cried a river last night. She’d felt pulled into a dark and lonely abyss and it had terrified her as much as it had pained her.

She’d spent all day in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the previous evening in her head. Over and over again, until she could no longer deny the gnawing feeling that ate away at her. Something wasn’t right about those last few minutes with Drake, before she’d left his office. He hadn’t wanted her to go, he’d said as much.

Frustrated by the fact that she couldn’t shake the two contrasting looks in his eyes—the heated one and the disgusted one—she’d thrown the blankets off and wandered out into the living room.

An hour later, she still felt something was off.

Tossing aside her magazine, she stood and stretched. Her body was sore, but not at all in a bad way. It felt refreshingly used and sated.

Heading into the bathroom, she stripped off her clothes, her eyes avoiding the mirror. She stepped into the shower and a warm spray of water hit her skin, making it tingle. Or maybe it was thoughts of Drake’s hands on her body, which she couldn’t banish from her mind, that made her ridiculously aroused, even though she was all by herself.

She lathered the soap in her hands and then ran them down her arms and across her chest and over her stomach. That’s when she saw the bruises.

She’d dressed so quickly in the bathroom in Drake’s office last night, she hadn’t noticed them. Well, in truth, she specifically hadn’t looked at herself in the mirror until her dress was on, believing he found her hideous. Why would she bother to spare a glance at herself—it wasn’t as if she needed the confirmation that, despite all her exercising and eating right, her stomach wasn’t as flat as a supermodel’s, her breasts were solid Ds and her hips… Well. She was built to bear children, no two ways about it.

Not that that would ever happen. Her one chance at romance had been blown out of the water last night. And she was pretty certain she’d never meet another man who’d make her feel the way Drake had. She’d love him always, even though it would be an unrequited love.

She inspected parts of her body in the shower, ignoring all the usual flaws she was used to seeing. Like the strawberry-shaped birthmark on her left butt cheek and the thighs and calves that were toned, but too long for a woman to not dwarf most of the people she stood next to, no matter how low the heel on her shoe. Her narrow waist created such a severe hourglass shape that every pair of jeans she tried on gapped by several inches in the back, making them impossible to wear unless she planned to never sit down. Finding clothes that fit her properly had always been the bane of her existence. She kept a tailor in business with her alterations alone.