pation clouded her mind, dizziness followed, and her hands closed firmly around her stemmed Collins glass in an attempt to overcome the overwhelming feelings engulfing her. Swallowing her drin

ed into what fe

n. Acute disappointment filled her chest, an ache so swift and sharp it made her catch her breath. Her gaze automatically darted in every dire

rtime again, conjuring images that her reality failed to deliver. What she couldn't figure out was the

dds suggesting otherwise that evening. She didn't have the imposing presence or stunning features that usually t

xorably assumed she either did not have an opinion or that she was an introvert. Which suited her just fine. She was not interested in s

of putting as many miles as possible between her and her past, and here she was, dragging it along like luggage she couldn't

ail to afford because her father hadn't thought she deserved one-or worse, he simply hadn't cared. It didn't matter anymore. She w

ven the sexy stranger out of her mind. Which was a very good thing. She knew better than

e a wast

was here to unwind, to decompress, to remember who she was before she stepped into the professional world that loomed ominously ahead. A world she was dreading, knowing she w

to labor for them, cautiously, painfully, knowing that once she attached, she had a serious problem disentangling herself. Emot

l-scrupulously careful-before gi

tional attachments were alien to her. She derided herself now for even having allowed

happen

never hap

esponsive, hollowed out by year

o give. Pretending to be someone else-someone louder, more confident, more dazzling-was exhausting. Whether it was to live up to certain ex

as so tir

round and around between her fingers, watching the d

first time, how the strang

t her to be so

ion, the counterfeit Ana she ca

Ana-the one she hid from everyone else, the one

im, with eyes that burned and smiles that pr

she w

She might as well head back to the hotel. Tomorrow was a new day, and

yb