nor

adjusting to the dim light. I was in a bed, a strange bed

iling window revealed the glittering skyline of Manhattan. I real

soft cashmere blanket. My wet, torn dress wa

eart hammered against my r

ed. On the nightstand, a glass of wa

r Alessandro Osborne's low, deep

ilent on the plush carpet. I tiptoed to the d

s voice, sharp and l

her to the Stephensons for a capital injection-the merger is the only thing keeping Guy Enterprises from collapse. The Guy

. It was Julian Hayes, Alessandro's chi

Alessandro anything

ight before the wedding: I was the

e-all traded for a lifelin

I had run because I ref

several degrees. "Are you

f the media gets a picture of her walking out of here, God knows what they'll write. They

erm for girls who chased after hockey players. I knew that's what I looked like to the outside

ld, humorless laugh. "My reputa

n this won't do her any good either. The best way to handle this is to

n was right. It was the "best" and most logical solution.

d on. My heartbeat felt

heard his voice, sharp and final. "Sh

s. "What? Stays here? Ale

and. "Your job is to investigate, not to give

resentful foots

r, my legs weak. He... w

scrambled back to the bed, pulled the covers up,

softly. Alessa

could feel his gaze on me, and I h

awake," he said

up. I slowly opened my eyes a

e gestured to the nightstand. "You need t

stion. It was a s

ce barely a whisper. "We're stranger

his mouth curved into a strange, unreadable smile. "Maybe I

sible, but it didn't fe

ng your wounds," he added, "my housekeep

otter. I was ashamed

at the door. He looked back a