Page 57 of Rome: The Ballerina

Myhands.

Everything he possessed belonged to me.From his head to his toes, he was mine. I pitied them both because neither had a clue.

Life is unfair. I admitted, though I wasn’t referring to myself. I was referring to the woman before me with her smile reaching her eyes.Oh Aliza.

His eyes penetrated me, never losing sight of the most important part of the moment. Our encounter. Our first encounter. He was as dreamy as I remembered. As dreamy as he was on the plane the other day with his head between my legs and his hands pressed against my thighs.

Dark sandy hair.

Amber eyes.

Soft brown skin.

Sharp jawline.

Thick, bushy, and envious eyebrows.

Eyelashes that curled perfectly.

Six whole feet and another six to eight inches.

He was a giant.

My giant.

Naturally, my body gravitated to him. Both of his hands were preoccupied, but somehow he was still beckoning for me. Mentally. Emotionally. Spiritually. I submitted, stepping forward and extending my hand to meet his.

He loosened his grip around Aliza, eventually letting her go completely. When he stepped forward, he took my hand into his.

Just as I remembered.

My skin tingled inside out. The magic happening within me was unbelievable. My hairs stiffened to the point of pain. My heart repaired itself and broke once more. It was a never ending cycle.

“Rome,” I told him, “Rome Childers.”

I searched his pretty brown eyes for evidence that I’d haunted him for years, too. Any sign that I’d visited his dreams. An inkling that he understood my significance. He drove a dagger through my already broken heart with his oblivion.

Those amber eyes were clueless. His dark sandy hair rested on his body while mine stood at their full potential. His long limbs were fluid, completely relaxed.

Broad shoulders.

Large lips.

Perfect teeth.

Enormous hands.

Feet that were at least twice the size of mine.

Big, round eyes.

Bushy brows.

Curled lashes.

Smooth skin worthy of envy.

Ears that peeked from the sides of his face.

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