Chapter 8: Dance with the devil
The quietness felt heavy and made Abby very nervous. She held her breath, waiting to hear what he would say.
What she had asked for seemed almost crazy, a wild idea that desperation had pushed her to consider. But she knew that desperate situations sometimes led to trying things that seemed strange.
The truth was clear to her, and it was painful. A man as important as Remo Quinn would never notice someone like her.
Her hair was a fiery red, a cascade of vibrant red waves that framed her face. Freckles covered her skin, not just a few, but quite a few across her cheeks and nose. She thought her looks were plain, nothing special, certainly not the kind that men like him usually found attractive.
Yet, there she was, brave because of desperation, willing to take a chance that might change her life.
His strong gaze, so intense it felt like it could see through her, looked at her again. She fought the urge to squirm under his scrutiny, to fiddle with the hem of her dress or tuck a strand of her unruly hair behind her ear.
She wanted to seem calm and confident, but it was hard when she felt so unsure about herself.
She knew her appeal wasn’t like what most people found appealing. Her heart raced, feeling every moment that passed and every second of the quiet that surrounded them. It was like time was holding its breath, waiting for him to say something that could either crush her hope completely or make her believe in the impossible.
God. She wished he’d at least stop looking like he was seriously thinking about it.