Leonard didn't even know why his feet betrayed him. One moment, he was standing outside the apartment building, jaw tight and fists clenched from a day that had already left him raw and irritable. The next, Lara Johanssen had appeared, her voice dripping with that sweet, mocking drawl, and instead of brushing her off, as he should have, he found himself following her.
It was infuriating, how easily she could pull him along, as though he were some moth compelled to burn itself against her flame. Lara walked a step ahead of him, her head held high, posture immaculate, her heels striking the polished floor with sharp, deliberate clicks that drew glances from strangers they passed. Every inch of her moved with calculated grace, as if she owned the very ground she walked on.
