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“A guest was smoking in his bathroom. When he opened the door, the smoke set off the alarm. There’s no sign of a fire.”

“Has everyone been moved off the floor?”

“Yes. Security is checking every room, and the fire department is on the way.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” I end the call and slip my phone into my handbag. “I need to go.”

Eric checks his watch. His hair is still untidy from my hands. “I’m late for a meeting.”

For one more second, neither of us moves. His gaze drops to my lips.

“We’ll talk later.”

I don’t agree, but he opens the door as if the matter is settled and lets me pass.

By the time I reach the elevator, my mind is back on the Hartwell—the fire crew, the evacuated guests, and the smoking violation I’ll have to deal with. Even so, I can still feel Eric’s mouth on mine and his hand beneath my skirt.

Nine months without sex may explain why I wanted him to keep touching me. It doesn’t explain why I crossed the room and kissed him.

12

RACHEL

Later that night, Chloe, Taylor, Lauren, and I settle into a curved corner booth at Cavell. Dark walnut panels line the walls, and small brass lamps glow above the plum velvet seats. A pianist plays near the marble bar, keeping the music low enough for conversation.

A bottle of champagne chills in a silver bucket beside us. Taylor has Lauren laughing over a dinner party that went wrong before the first course, giving me a chance to lean closer to Chloe.

“How was the dentist?” I ask.

“Perfectly pleasant,” Chloe says.

“That bad?”

“Worse. Handsome, kind, financially stable. Wants three children.”

“I’m struggling to find the problem. You want three kids.”

“He agreed with everything I said.”

“You do have excellent opinions,” I say with a grin.

“I told him I’d never leave Alton Hills. He said he couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. Twenty minutes later, I said I’d always liked the idea of moving to Italy, and suddenly he could see himself living in Tuscany.”

“You were testing him?”

“By that point? Yes. I need a man who has his own opinions.” She sets her glass on the table. “It’s a shame. I liked looking at him.”

“At least you got something out of the evening.”

“Actually, I did. I ran into an old client at the bar.”

“Who?”

“Amelia Van der Morgan. She used to date Eric, remember? I may have mentioned that you were having trouble with him and asked if she knew anything useful.”

“And?”

“Unfortunately, she had nothing bad to say. She said they only broke up because Eric always put work first.”