Joanna was only two steps into the dining room when she unconsciously looked in Addison’s direction and found the woman ogling her. Before her father’s second stroke, Joanna had managed to get out of the house on the occasional Friday night to meet up with friends at local pubs. Over a pint or two, and amidst the smoke, the smell of ale, and bargain-basement cologne, she had received her fair share of leers from young men, but she had long since forgotten the look, but not any longer.

Taken aback by the way Addison’s eyes were roaming over her figure, Joanna forgot about the worn area rug covering the floor. Threadbare in some areas and tattered in others, in its heyday it may have welcomed stiletto heels, but that was then...and this was now.

Like a bull in a rodeo, the heel of Joanna’s left boot was lassoed by a loose thread, and in a blink of an eye, with arms flailing and appearing as if she was dancing to a song by Chubby Checker, Joanna twisted herself to the floor.

When Joanna landed with a loud thud, Addison forgot for a moment that she was supposed to hate the woman. Jumping to her feet, in two quick strides, she was standing over Joanna, who was still a crumpled mess on the floor. “Christ, are you all right?”

Embarrassed and already aware tomorrow would bring more than one bruise, Joanna winced as she pushed herself into a sitting position. Looking up at Addison, she said, “Bet you were hoping I’d break my neck.”

While not quite having the same velocity as a sucker punch or a backhand, Joanna’s retort, nonetheless, caused all the air to escape Addison’s lungs. She had strayed outside what was expected and offered assistance, only to have it rebuffed simply because it had come from her. The pain of that rebuke made its way to her face, drooping the corners of her mouth and clouding her stare until nothing remained but a sad, empty shell.

It was just another barb, and they had exchanged many, but when Joanna saw Addison’s expression, she was rattled. The woman’s stern intensity had disappeared and in its place was something Joanna thought she would never see. Her flippant response had done the unimaginable. She had hurt the unhurtable.

Regretting her sarcastic remark, Joanna held out her hand. “Help me up?” she said softly.

Addison stared at Joanna’s outstretched hand. It was an olive branch, and to take it would mean at least for the night, there would be peace between them. Refuse, and the hostility would continue. After spending the last ten days traveling all over Europe, the only thing Addison wanted to do was eat her dinner, have a scotch, swim some laps, and get some sleep, so drawing in a breath, she let it out slowly as she slipped her hand into Joanna’s.