Page 6 of Run

And noticing the heels made me look at her delicate feet, bare legs. Legs that I followed up, and then up even farther to the rectangle of fabric that was supposed to pass for a skirt.

I continued up, saw the way the edge of the skirt met the bottom of her shirt, then up farther to the swell of her succulent breasts, bare shoulders, the column of her neck.

The sight of that bare brown skin had the effect of making my cock solid and spurring the near undeniable need to cover that skin.

What the fuck was this?

Giovanna had never been like this before.

I remembered the fights she used to get into with her mother about her clothes, how she would steal my undershirts to pair with her jeans, how sexy I had always found that.

So why was she parading around, half naked, her thick dark hair that she always kept pulled tight now loose around her head, giving her that wild, tousled look that I only saw after I’d fucked us both breathless?

I clenched my fists, trying desperately to fight back the urge to go to her.

Seeing her half naked in this room full of assholes was bad enough, but the fact that I didn’t know how she had gotten here, didn’t know what had changed in her, only made the situation that much worse.

I tried to remind myself that Giovanna had made her choices, that it was she who’d left me. But that truth rang hollow in my head, was nothing next to the burn of my failure.

I could have convinced her. Could have shown her how much I loved her. Made sure she knew it so that she wouldn’t leave.

But I’d failed.

I wouldn’t again.

She knew that, too.

Even after the years apart, that much hadn’t changed. There’d always been a connection between me and Gia, something like a string that connected us one to the other. Even now, after having been dormant for so long, it was still there.

I knew she was as aware of me as I was of her.

The question was, what would she do?

I didn’t know, but I had my suspicions.

If I had to guess, I’d say she would run.

Giovanna was good at that. Always had been.

For the first time since I walked into the bar, I felt some measure of satisfaction.

Gia was good at running.

But I was even better at the chase.

Giovanna

This couldn’t be happening.

The thought had my head craning toward Vincent, but I quickly made myself look away. It was difficult, almost impossible, to do so, but somehow I managed. I felt dizzy with shock, stunned with fear, and underneath all that, so deep I would never acknowledge it, I was warm with relief, with joy at having seen him.

I ignored every single feeling.

Just like I could pretend I was Kelly, put on the heels and halter top and the miniskirt and be her, I could pretend that he wasn’t there, that everything in my mind and body didn’t recognize him. Long for him. Pretend that Vincent’s presence did not instantly remind me of who and what I was. What he was.

I wasn’t Kelly, flirty, giggly, girly bartender.

I was Giovanna Carmelli, mobster’s daughter.