g woman in a courier' s uniform, a clipboard in her hand. But I

na Ch

smirk that didn't reach her e

here, his body tensing. "What is

voice a low growl. "We' re busy. Le

ocked his coffee mug off the entry table. It shatter

rushed out into the hallway after her, his voice instantly changin

llowed them to the service elevator and down to the back alley. The city's morning grime an

is hands framing her face. "I had to m

ach. It was still flat, but she held it with a pos

' t seen in years. It was a smile of pure, unadulterated

us?" he breath

d," she c

ntage Cartier brooch, a platinum and diamond piece from his grandmother. I had

ourier uniform. "This is fo

n't a sweet kiss. It was hungry, desperate, possessive. I watched, frozen, as his hands roamed he

he Hamptons tonight," he whispered. "I just have to tell

ne he' d canceled yesterday, claiming

the image of them seared into my mind. The brooch. The kiss. The lie about Chicago. Every