Page 30 of The Forbidden Trio

Then camehisfeet, stopping to stand right in front of her.

She inhaled, her eyes closed for several long seconds before daring to raise her head. Yep. He still smelled the same. And her body still responded with a slow, trembling heat that began in her middle and spread… everywhere.

She met his gaze and goddammit his eyes were still that glossy silvery blue that looked as if they’d been cast in glass, framed by dark, long lashes.

It made her hot all over and mad as hell that he could still do this to her just by showing up. Just by breathing.

Breathe.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” she demanded quietly from between gritted teeth. “Janie, we need to talk.”

“Do we?”

“We didn’t have a chance when I saw you a week ago—”

“We were at Sonny’s funeral, Cole!”

He ran a hand over his crop of dark hair. “Come on. I know that. That’s why I left it alone once you made it clear you didn’t even want to say hello.”

“So you just decide to show up at one of my classes?”

His fingertips swept over the dark stubble of his goatee. “I didn’t know where else to find you,” he said quietly.

“I thought that was the point.” Anger was a fire blazing inside her. She’d had no idea she still had so much of it in her. Toward him. In general. Apparently training all these years as a yoga instructor hadn’t afforded her the inner calm she’d been striving for.

All these years. Seven years since she’d left him—and she hadn’t seen him face-to-face since the divorce. Not until the funeral. She’d been so raw and angry and hurt that day, she couldn’t bear to face him. She’d literally turned her back on him and walked away when he’d looked as if he might approach her.

It still hurt.

She looked up as the next session’s instructor came in.

“Oh, sorry, Janie. I was going to set up for my Kundalini class. Am I interrupting?”

“Go ahead, Brenda. We were… on our way out.”

“Janie—” he started.

Her look silenced him and she grabbed his wrist and began to pull him from the room, trying not to notice the soft hairs on his forearm or the hard muscle flexing there, beneath the gorgeous ink.

“Come on. We’ll talk in my office.”

She moved as quickly as she could down the hallway, pushing open her office door and letting him pass through before shoving the door shut behind her. Leaning back against it, she took a breath, trying to control her shaking legs.

“Okay. Talk, Cole.”

He looked around, and even though her office was large and airy, he seemed to fill up the room. Not only because he was tall—it was more about thepresencethat made him so dynamic on stage. And off. “You’ve done a nice job here. Of course, you always did have good taste. This place suits you.”

She bit her lip. It shouldn’t matter what he thought about anything she did, but a small bubble of happiness welled inside her. She hoped it didn’t show on her face. Still, she refused to make it too easy on him. “Thanks. So. What is it? Why are you here?”

“I needed to see you.” He stepped closer and she would have stepped back had the door not already been pressed against her spine. She took in a small, gasping breath, and there was his scent again: leather and motor oil andCole.

“We need to talk, you needed to see me,” she muttered. “You’re seeing me. So talk.”

“Janie. Look at me.” His tone was one of quiet command. Familiar. Irresistible. She glanced up at his face and was momentarily stunned by the emotion she saw there. “I needed to see you, to talk to you, after… after Sonny’s funeral. We haven’t seen each other since that last time at the attorney’s office, and you wouldn’t let me talk to you then, either.”

“Seriously? Can you blame me?”

He flinched. “Of course I can’t blame you. I put you through hell, and you deserved better.

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