Page 27 of The Wrong Move

Normally, I would agree, except tonight, I’m struggling to take my eyes off her. While her cover-ups conceal her beautiful body, the image of her on the beach is unforgettable. Giana is the most beautiful woman on the planet. While my attraction to her at school was undeniable, I’m now fighting it at another level.

It’s considerably hotter outside, even with the breeze of day changing to night.

Giana stares at the infinity pool.

“Jump in. It will help you cool off. I’ll pass your wine over, and we can watch the last of the sunset on the edge.”

“I don’t know…” Her gaze flicks between me and the pool, then she shrugs. “Why not? We only live once.”

She slides her shirt over her arms, and it falls to the pool lounge. She unties her sarong. “Are you coming in?”

She catches my admiring gaze. “I can if it’s what you want.”

“I’m not swimming alone. I did enough of that in the last four years.”

It’s like a knife to my gut. Why the hell didn’t I call her? The fact she cut me off is a fact I don’t miss, and we still need to have a conversation at some stage. But not tonight. It could ruin what we’re building.

Giana slides into the pool, and I’m doing all I can to tame my raging thoughts. I hand her the glass of wine, slip off my shirt, and follow her in. We push through the water to the other side of the pool, and Giana rests her wine glass carefully on the ledge.

She pushes up to look over the edge. “Woah. That is a drop.”

“Fifteen feet.” I place a hand on her back as she stares down to the pool water catchment.

“Has anyone walked along this ledge?” She gapes down the rugged mountain edge to the properties below.

“No, and neither will you.”

She giggles at me. “I’m not that brave.”

“Brave? I’m not about to let anyone risk their safety by being a daredevil.”

“I like this side of you.” She turns, and her gaze fixes on mine. My hand is still on her back as she slides into the water. “You were always focused, but something is different.”

“Focused? As in not risking everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve?”

She turns to the house, taking her arms wide. “What you have achieved here is remarkable.”

“Glad you approve.”

“I’m suremanydo.”

The way she says it isn’t a compliment. “It’s not a party house.”

“No girls?” She pulls a face as though she doesn’t believe me.

“I never said I was a priest.”

“I bet they prayed to you.”

This isn’t the conversation I’d hoped for. I move directly into her line of vision. “There was only one girl I wanted to want mein that way, but she cut me off like I was nothing. A man does things to forget.”

“You didn’t want me,” she whispers. “You were high the last time we were together. I was nobody, just a warm body to you.” She shoves her wine glass toward me in emphasis, one finger pointed my way. “You came for one thing. Fucked me in my studio like I was nothing, then got up and left when I called you out on it.”

Jesus. I was a mess, I admit, and I didn’t expect to have this conversation now.

“I waited for a week,” she continues. “But I never heard from you. Lesson learned. I don’t want to feel like that again.” She looks at her wine glass and takes a sip. “It was a douchebag move, and it meant nothing to someone I deeply cared for.”

My chest is so tight I’m struggling for air. “Gigi, I’m sorry. While I can’t fix my past, I can promise you I’m no longer that guy. It was a shitty six months of my life, and I’m sorry you had to see me like that.”

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