Vendetta

‘Something like that,’ she said primly.

‘While I arrange something suitably light for you and filling for me, why don’t you get those papers out so I can look them over?’

Looking them over was a long way from signing, but Vivian hastened to do as he instructed while he was gone. He had shut the door behind him, and opened it so quietly on his return that she wasn’t aware of him until he loomed over her at the desk. The first she knew of him was the hot, predatory breath on the back of her neck.

‘You move very quietly—’ she began, in breathless protest at his consistent ability to surprise her.

‘For a cripple?’ he finished with biting swiftness.

‘That wasn’t what I was going to say!’ she protested, sensing that sympathy was the last thing he would ever want from her.

‘You were going to use a more diplomatic term, perhaps?’ he sneered. ‘Disabled? Physically challenged?’

She was suddenly blindly furious with him. How dared he think that she would be so callous, let alone so stupid, as to taunt him, no matter what the provocation!

‘You move quietly for such a big man is what I was going to say before you rudely interrupted,’ she snapped. ‘And an over-sensitive one, too, I might add. I didn’t leap down your throat when you drew attention to the fact I was blind as a bat, did I? And I have two supposedly undamaged legs and yet I never seem to be able to coordinate them properly. I dreamed of being a ballerina when I was a girl…’ She trailed off wistfully, suddenly remembering who it was she was confiding in.