I hadn’t gone into that meeting planning on doing it, but as soon as he’d explained the Catherine-Shantelle coincidence I hadn’t been able to help myself. The relief had been too great. The instant I’d looked into his eyes I’d known I’d been an idiot to ever doubt him. Then seeing the bruises on his face, realizing how alone he was in that place, it had all culminated in an overwhelming urge to make him come. I just wished I hadn’t spoiled the moment by mentioning prison. I’d have left the meeting feeling far happier if I’d known I’d given him just one second of blissful abandon. I’d agreed with Galiema to return to the office after my meeting with Harrison. As far as she was concerned, I’d visited Harrison in order to get his side of the story on the resemblance of the victims. It was at least half true. But she had no idea I’d really gone because of my irresistible, primal urge to be with him, because of that magnetism that pulled me towards him and wouldn’t let go.
