Leah's Seduction: 3 (Gianni and Leah - Leah's Seduction) by Emily Jane Trent Page A

wasn’t equipped to deal with.
    The way he made her feel, how Leah gave him all, left her raw. She was vulnerable, and if she stayed with him, she would only be hurt worse. Gianni likely wouldn’t want her now, anyway. She had committed the unforgivable sin of confessing her love.
    *****
    The door shut, and Gianni went to the window to look out into the darkness. It probably would have happened sooner or later anyway. But that didn’t help fill the gaping hole in his chest. It was a nightmare, and it was happening all over again.
    It was his fault. Taking Leah on romantic getaways could only have given her the wrong impression. And so it had. What Gianni had trouble getting his wits around was why he had done it in the first place.
    More and more often, he had wanted to be with Leah. He wanted her sleeping next to him, and he wanted to take her away. Gianni was in dangerous territory, as he knew the nature of women. It was more difficult for them to be intimate physically without involving the heart.
    Gianni could do it. He had sworn he would, not wanting to repeat past mistakes. But now he had upset Leah, which hadn’t been his intention. He realized he was behaving out of character, encouraging closeness instead of keeping his distance.
    He wasn’t certain when things changed. It had been subtle, a gradual change he hadn’t noticed. Then everything had blown up. Leah wanted something he didn’t have to give. Maybe once he did. But not now.
    *****
    Gianni had slept little. He missed Leah, but knew he wasn’t good for her. It was better that she find out now. In time, she would realize it was for the best, and meet a man that could give her everything she needed.
    Alone in the condo, Gianni had thought of the journal. Then he had remembered what Leah had shouted at him when she had been mad: “It’s like you know my most private fantasies, like you can read my mind,” Which was precisely the case. If Leah was not the author of the sexy journal, she was close enough.
    Whatever the true author dreamed of seemed to fit into Leah’s fantasies without effort. He had seduced her, being privy to her most private longings. That had served to bind her to him in a powerful way.
    How had he not predicted that she would think she was in love? Gianni should have known. And he should have kept her at arm’s length. Now it was too late. Yet, wallowing in his misery in the empty condo, he had been unable to seek solace.
    He had wanted to read the familiar journal, and drink in the sensual writing. But he hadn’t been able to bear to do it. Not with Leah gone. Despite his longing, he had left the journal locked up, as though he’d had his privilege revoked.
    Hurting her like he had, Gianni didn’t deserve the pleasure the journal offered. He didn’t have the right. If Leah were suffering, then he would too. Even the strength of his urge to read the sexy passages in the diary hadn’t been enough to make him do so.
    So he had sat in front of the window until late at night, thinking about nothing. And everything. Any attempt to sleep had been fruitless, until finally before dawn he had drifted off briefly out of pure exhaustion.
    The next morning he went to the gym before work, hoping to find relief. Even pushing heavy weights and running until his legs were rubbery provided no release from his torment. Nor did burying himself in work, as he tried to do as the days went by.
    Leah was not far from his thoughts, no matter what else he was doing. And the void inside him gaped with the lack of her presence. Agonizing over the absence of a woman was unfamiliar. It hadn’t happened to Gianni before.
    Sure, the sex with Leah was outstanding. But there were other women. He could find a woman he could teach to do the same things. However, it wouldn’t be the same. It wouldn’t feel the same, and he knew it.
    The days paraded by, and although Gianni dealt with business, he was vacant. Lost. For the first time, he wasn’t sure what to