Defensive Heart: The Donnolleys, Book 2 by Dorothy F. Shaw Page B

problem at all.”
    “Thanks for saying yes. I’ll text you the address when we hang up.”
    “Only because it’s for a good cause.” Sonja sat at her desk and rested her head in her palm. It was a lie. A bold-faced lie. Her answer had nothing to do with the event being for a good cause. The truth was she said yes because she wanted to see him.
    “Can I see you before Friday?”
    She blurted a laugh. “No.”
    “All right. But who knows, maybe you’ll run into me. It’s a small city.”
    “Goodbye, James. I’ll see you Friday night.”
    “Looking forward to it.”
    The call disconnected and Sonja leaned back in her chair. Holy crap. Did she really say yes to him? Screw it. She needed a break from everything everyone always expected of her. A primal need clawed at Sonja’s insides. No one expected her to go out with a thirty-year-old, much less someone with tattoos and piercings.
    He’d been right in Vegas. She did want to take a walk on the wild side. Sonja wanted to do something she wanted and not what everyone else expected her to do. She wanted to be free. It was one small step, but it felt like she’d leaped over the Grand Canyon. Tamping down the urges somersaulting in her stomach—the very ones she shouldn’t allow herself to entertain—Sonja grabbed her briefcase and left the office.
    When she stepped inside her Park Avenue apartment, the sounds of Tchaikovsky’s “Romeo and Juliet” met her ears. Making her way from the entryway, she navigated the long parquet wood floor of the hall to her daughter’s bedroom and glanced inside. Casey wasn’t there. Sonja continued in the direction of her study and the music grew louder the closer she got. Rounding the corner and stepping through the open double-paneled wood doors, she found Thomas sitting in one of the high-back chairs.
    He held a crystal brandy snifter, filled halfway, in one hand and the other in the air as if he were conducting the very symphony playing from her CD player. “I missed you today. Where were you?” he said without looking in her direction.
    Choosing to ignore his declaration, Sonja laid her briefcase atop her desk. “I had work to get done.”
    Thomas set his brandy on the small table next to him and stood. He approached her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into an unwanted embrace. He bent to kiss her, but she turned her head and his lips landed on her cheek. “Did you miss me?”
    Sonja placed her hands on his chest to push him away. Naturally he didn’t move. “Thomas, please don’t.”
    He looked at her. “Please don’t, what?” He bent his head and nuzzled her neck.
    Bile rose in the back of her throat and Sonja jerked her head away. She didn’t want this. Didn’t want him. “You know exactly what.” Stepping from his embrace, she crossed her arms. “I realize last night might have—”
    His face twisted into a scowl. “Might’ve what?”
    “Don’t look at me that way.” Sonja turned away and unloaded her briefcase. “It was just sex, Thomas. Nothing more. There is nothing more.”
    He stepped beside her and circled her wrist with his hand, halting her movement. “I know you don’t mean that. You can’t even look me in the eye when you say it.”
    Sonja snapped her head up and leveled her gaze with his. “There is nothing more.”
    Thomas let out a scoff and retrieved his brandy. “We’ll see.”
    “Where’s Casey?”
    “I let her go out. I thought it might be nice to have some time alone.” He sneered, then took a sip of his brandy.
    “The Fantasy Overture” played on in the background, sounding quite ominous to her ears mixed in with the underlying tone in Thomas’s words. But it was nothing compared to the anger that lanced her veins like a white-hot poker. Sonja pressed both palms flat on her desk and drew in a deep breath. “You let her go out?” She clenched her teeth, striving for some measure of calm. She was going to kill him. “She’s grounded, Thomas. Does