The Last Time I Saw Venice. Vivienne Wallington
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Inwardly, she felt herself gasping for air, clutching for normality and reason. They were only sharing a lift, for heaven’s sake.
Maybe it was her heightened imagination, but it seemed to take an age to reach the first floor, another age to reach the second, and finally, with her heart thumping so loudly by then she was sure he must hear it, the lift doors swung open.
“Good night, Simon!” Her voice was a ragged gasp as she lurched out without looking back.
So much for acting cool! She’d failed dismally, and now he’d know she wasn’t indifferent to him. He’d been indifferent to her for so long, withholding the love and warmth he’d once shown for her, that she should be guarding her heart a whole lot better than this.
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