han her entire apartment. Sunlight streamed through the massive

-remembered dream. The penthouse. The construction site. The way Isaac had looked at her when he kne

er phone and dial

will not believe

the phone-the reunion, the one-night stand, the

it, this isn't a coincidence. This guy is hunting you. He's obse

uld be like to stop running, to lean into whatever this was. But then she remembered the look in Isaac's eyes in the lobb

apartment was empty. A note in Isaac's strong, decisive handwriti

who could be ordered around like a subordinate. She had told herself that morning that

called a car, went back to her own ap

n Brenda Miller, a designer from another

on Caitlin's bandaged ankle. Her tone was laced with fake

ice flat. She turned back to h

, Caitlin packed her bag and slowly made her way to t

curb. The back window glided down, revealin

, Caitlin." It

ith a sinking feeling that she was beginning to accept this as normal. The chauffeured rides. Th

pointed to a high stool at

osing muscular forearms dusted with fine, dark hair. He opened a stainless-steel,

an easy, practiced grace. He seasoned the steaks, heated a cast-iron skillet, and f

e in a comfortable silence, the city lights twinkling below them. The wine worked it

voice soft. "Why are y

yes locked onto hers, their intensity ste

lin felt something crack inside her chest. No one ha

his thumb gently stroking her cheek, which was now warm from the wine. Her hear

e, found hers. The kiss started gently, a question, but when she

d him-reminded herself-that this was exactly what she had said she didn'

s arms. He carried her toward the master bedroom, his str