Domenico~
For a second, I just looked at her.
She was standing in the middle of my office like she had run straight through the house. Her breathing was uneven and her fingers were locked so tightly around her bag I could see the strain in her knuckles.
There was still a trace of panic in her face, in the tightness around her mouth, in the way her eyes kept moving over me carefully, as if she was making sure I was actually standing there in one piece.
That did something small and unwelcome to the center of my chest.
And I didn't care for it.
I couldn't remember the last time anyone had looked at me like that. Not out of fear. Not because they wanted something. But because they thought something might have happened to me.
The thought sat there for half a second, enough to irritate me
