“Yeah,” she agreed. “That’s what I meant.”
He studied her. “You never told me about growing up in a battle zone.”
“No?”
She frowned as she thought back. It was hard to believe she’d never mentioned her traumatic childhood. Then she remembered the combustible attraction she and Michael had shared. When they’d been in the same room, sparks flew. Everything about their affair had been red-hot and they’d been consumed only with each other. They’d done everything with their mouths except talk.
It was inevitable that the passion would burn out, that the embers would turn to ashes. If there’d been more than the baby holding them together, Michael wouldn’t have disappeared without a word. If the wedding had gone forward, they’d have ended up hating each other. Divorce wars would have been inevitable. That fate was part of what had scared her about marrying him.
She didn’t want to end up hating Michael. She also didn’t want to be attracted to him, but so far she hadn’t figured out how to make her attraction stop.
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