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Page 30 of The Perfect Deception

Flip­ping his hand, he grasped hers and kissed it.

“Sorry, I got car­ried away.”

“And you were avoid­ing some­thing?”

How the hell could she know that? “My fa­ther said some things…” He stopped.

“…that up­set you.” She fin­ished his sen­tence and he smiled.

“That ob­vi­ous?”

She nod­ded. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head. Never. “Maybe some other time.”

She ran her hand through his hair. The touch of her fin­gers against his scalp was send­ing shards of elec­tric­ity down to his toes.

With a sigh, he put the car into drive.

Out­side of her apart­ment, he turned to her.

“Thanks for com­ing with me tonight.”

“If you want to talk, just call.”

He leaned over and gave her a chaste kiss on the mouth. He wanted more than “talk,” much more, but he’d al­ready moved too fast. With Dina, he needed to move slowly.

Three days later, and Dina could still feel the im­print of Adam’s kiss on her lips. She shiv­ered at the lit­tle jolts of elec­tric­ity run­ning through her body at the mem­ory of his touch. When she closed her eyes, she could smell his scent.

This was ridicu­lous.

Adam didn’t date women like her. His fa­ther had said as much. She sus­pected he dated tall, thin, and gor­geous. No mat­ter how kind and con­sid­er­ate he was to her, the only rea­son he was dat­ing her was to help him with his fa­ther. Even if his kisses made her toes curl.

As she sat at her com­puter, she had to stop think­ing about the way the sound of his voice made her stom­ach vi­brate and fo­cus on the “lit­tle-boy-lost” look caused by what­ever his fa­ther had said to him.

“Are you ready?”

Dina jumped as Tracy’s voice sounded be­hind her and she swung her chair around. “Ready for what?”

Tracy rolled her eyes. “OMG, you can’t pos­si­bly have for­got­ten we’re go­ing shop­ping for your re­union dress now, can you?”

Crap. “No, of course not. I was just pre­oc­cu­pied.”

Tracy grabbed Dina’s arm and prac­ti­cally dragged her out of the of­fice and out into the sun­shine, where Dina si­mul­ta­ne­ously squinted and rubbed her arm.

A dull throb­bing started be­hind her eyes. “You know, I have per­fectly fine dresses at home.”

Tracy shook her head and kept walk­ing. “How old are they?”

With a shrug, Dina trot­ted af­ter Tracy, who per­son­i­fied a heat-seek­ing mis­sile as she race-walked down the crowded mid­day side­walk. She watched, mor­ti­fied, as three ran­dom busi­ness­men and two moth­ers with strollers rushed out of the way and glared at Tracy’s back as she plowed through them.

Mouthing “I’m sorry,” Dina caught up with her friend out­side a small dress bou­tique. Af­ter see­ing the scant­ily clad win­dow man­nequins, she opened her mouth to sug­gest they try a dif­fer­ent store, but Tracy had al­ready dis­ap­peared in­side.

The bell hang­ing over the door jin­gled, drown­ing out the sales­woman’s words to Tracy.

Tracy gave a broad smile and turned to­ward Dina. “You can help her find a dress for her re­union.”

The rail-thin Goth girl nod­ded. “High school or col­lege?”




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