Time To Heal [COMPLETED]

CHAPTER TWO: THE ENCOUNTER

Anastasia Hazel Forrester had been a stunner in her early twenties, in her prime womanhood, she was a total knockout. Devin knew he was a goner the moment he laid eyes on her walking down the runway unaware of him. Her presence on stage shone through like a ray of sunshine after a long period of overcast weather. Aside from a complete make-over, her expression was cold and impassible, so unlike the Ana he'd known five years ago. To think that he was the one who'd transformed her into that version of virago caused a small constriction in the region where his heart was supposed to be. Even if he hated her. Still hated her vehemently, with every fiber of his being.

Their brief association had taught him that she was a spoilt and self-centered little brat, who venerated her father endlessly. That was her only unpardonable crime, but she didn't need any other incrimination considering who her father was. With a sneer, restless anticipation poured in his veins, unable to keep his attendance unknown any longer. At that precise moment, like she was attuned to his mood, her blue chips homed into his with mutinous challenge.

Surprise was too weak a word to describe the way he felt to discover that she'd grown some substance, when before she'd been meek and over-enthusiastic – which had been merely a smokescreen of course. Adrenaline kicked in with reaction, and he returned her smirk with a facsimile of his own, his insolent gaze staring impudently with the intent to insult. Whatever genuine admiration he felt for her for keeping her front was carefully hidden, as they stared at each other with blatant hostility, the atmosphere laden with tension. Inwardly, he was forced to appreciate her gusto though. Nothing changed in her outer demeanor, nobody could even guess that she was seeing her ex-fiancé after five years - the one who had betrayed her by not showing up at the altar.

When she purposefully ignored him on her next appearances, his ego took a huge dent that she could manage to remain unfazed. With much difficulty and an age-old self-restraint, he resisted the urge to fidget in his seat, a childish attempt to get her attention. He'd vowed to himself that he wouldn't allow her to get to him this time. However, his iron-clad control slithered when her gaze transiently wandered in his direction, and all his resolve evaporated when he bestowed her with an evil smile, damning himself for letting her get under his skin.

It'd been five bloody years, damn it! How could that chit of a woman still have the capacity to crumble his façade, be the only one who got through his defenses like they were sand instead of concrete? It was a small consolation to know that Ana also felt the same fatal attraction as him, the sexual tension between them was too tangible to disregard.

This time, though, he was forearmed with the knowledge of her selfish nature, and with five years of distance between them, he refused to fall in her trap a second time. He was no horny teenager who could not outplay a bout of lust – he was a powerful business magnate, son the great Richard Michael Crighton. There was no way he would permit himself to become putty in the hands of a mere woman, not when he'd witnessed how destructive that race could be. As his past caught up, he literally felt the mastery of his self-discipline strengthen. He would show no pity to Ana – Anastasia this time. It was better if his mind conjured her as Anastasia, it felt less intimate.

However, he was unprepared for what happened next, all his resolutions disintegrated like dust when her next appearance set the stage on fire, rising the heat several notches. Any idea about keeping cool indifference flew out of the window like smoke when she waltzed around in a flimsy yellow dress which barely extended beyond her thighs, exposing her gorgeous toned legs. On top of that, the way she was flaunting her cleavage left little to imagination, with every male eyes were glued to her chest with devouring appreciation.

Without warning, some primitive emotion gripped him savagely and he had to clutch the side of his seat to prevent himself from jumping on the stage to kidnap her. Or drape some cloth over her. Anything to keep her away from the lust-filled gazes of the wolves in the audience, who looked like they were already having X-rated mind sex with her.