Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus)

Chapter 12

The tone between them was almost intimate, like the kind of playful banter couples might share before parting ways.

They were already parked in front of her apartment building. Was he not planning to leave?

Did he expect her to invite him upstairs for tea and play the gracious hostess? Isadora blinked, trying to keep her composure. "Thank you for saving me tonight."

He said nothing.

Flustered, she added quickly, “Let me buy you dinner sometime to make it up to you."

Then, remembering who he was, she added, "Of course, that's only if you're willing."

Victor tapped his fingers lightly on the steering wheel. His eyes-dark as polished obsidian studied her, but he didn't respond to her offer.

He smirked. "Usually, after spending the night together, don't most people share a goodbye kiss?"

The comment made Isadora uncomfortable.

She shot back, "Victor, do you always turn farewells into some sort of romantic ritual with your dates?"

His gaze was all lazy amusement, voice low and undeniably magnetic. "I don't date women, Isadora."

"But, if you want to be my woman, I could think about it."

He leaned in a little, his tone teasing. "We do have great chemistry in that department, after all."

awkward smile. "I-I don't want

Victor's definition of "his woman" wasn't the same as her idea

girlfriend. Why on earth would she

run headlong into the next wasn't an accident-it

voice dropping to a deliberately suggestive whisper. “Really? That's not what

shot out to cover

brows lifted in amusement; he laughed softly, and the sound vibrated

seemed even more intense, a deep blue burning straight

her

her hand, and stammered,

open the passenger door and

without

watched her hasty retreat, a faint, knowing smile

as he watched her disappear into the

Isadora.

caught my interest. Don't think you'll slip

let herself into her

a thousand square feet. One bedroom, a small study. Cozy and unpretentious, the kind of place any ordinary person

no floor-to-ceiling windows or extravagant finishes, but she did have a sunlit balcony overflowing with flowers and

complained about how cramped it was here, which was why he'd never bothered to visit.

Isadora had always preferred this place. She'd bought it herself, with her own hard-earned money. That made

storage closet