Chapter 217

---- Chapter 217 "Come in for a bit," Gideon said. "Even just 15 or 20 minutes." Giselle avoided his eyes. "Ialready promised my staff I'd be at a meeting, It's important, and I'm running late as it is." "Then I'll go with you and drop you off at the shop," he pressed. "No need. It's almost rush hour, and traffic will be bad. I'm more concerned about your injury. It's not good for you to be running around. And I just overheard your call earlier. You've got company matters to deal with. Don't let me hold you up." Gideon's expression dimmed.

"We're already talking about marriage, yet you're still this polite with me, like we're strangers." He reached for her hand, fingers closing around her slender ones, his gaze intent. "Before I met you, I was never afraid of anything. Not when my mother died. Not when my foster parents abandoned me. But meeting you after more than 20 years... for the first time, I'm afraid. I'm afraid of losing you, even though, truth be told, I never really had you." When a man who'd always been reckless suddenly turned serious, it could be disarming.

Faced with that raw confession and his eyes on her, Giselle felt a flicker of guilt. ---- "Thank you." The words slipped out, uncertain. She let him hold her hand. "I understand how you feel. just can't give myself fully to this yet. Ineed time." "Tcan wait," he said, tightening his grip before looking out the windshield. His voice was quieter now. "The fact that you're letting me in at a moment like this is already enough." Giselle said nothing. "Drive my car back. Be careful." He released her hand and stepped out, unwilling to linger in a haze of uncertainty.

After saying goodbye, she pressed the gas and eased away from his villa, merging onto the wide suburban road. She opened the window for fresh air, but the rush of wind did nothing to lift her mood. If anything, her chest felt heavier. Thoughts of Donovan's outburst at the office, Gideon's searching gaze, and the impulsive decisions she'd made today all pressed down on her. Back at her veterinary clinic, she assisted in spaying a customer's dog. Distracted , she wasn't careful enough and ended up with a bloody scratch on her arm.

She worked straight through until eight or nine that night before finally heading home. By then, she had no energy for anything else. She couldn't sleep either. Her mind kept circling back to Donovan's face, stirring her up inside. ---- Wanting to blow off steam, she pulled on her riding gear and decided to take her motorcycle out. She hadn't ridden ina long time, and her high-end Harley had been sitting in the garage gathering dust. She wiped it down, strapped on her helmet and knee guards, swung her legs over the seat, gripped the handlebars, and kicked off.

She wove through city traffic with practiced ease, passing several busy districts before heading out of town toward her usual mountain route. It was after nine now. The winding road through the hills was deserted-no cars, no people-perfect for opening up the throttle. She kept accelerating , leaning into the curves as easily as she always had. The rush of speed, the roar of the night wind in her ears, gradually eased the tightness in her chest. Half an hour later, she slowed as she rounded a hill and hit a flat stretch. That was when a black sedan came speeding up from behind.

She thought nothing of it, assuming it was just another passing car, and stayed focused on her ride. But as she slowed for a right turn, the sedan suddenly lunged forward without warming. ---- Before she could react, the car clipped her bike. The motorcycle skidded out of control, and she went tumbling across the asphalt-bike and body together.