I’m struggling to walk, forcing myself to put one foot in front of the other. I want to leap over tables and run to her.

I can feel my jaw working, clicking in and out of place.

It feels like I’m running in place, moving through fucking molasses.

Why aren’t people trying to stop me? Why isn’t everyone staring at me? Someone should be holding me back because I’m not in control.

Completely not in control.

I’m breathing hard. It sounds like I’m growling.

The only person who can see how dangerous I am is Sienna.

My heart is beating so fast. I can almost feel the blood pushing against the valves in my veins.

Sienna.

Sienna Reid, the girl I chased around the ranch.

The girl I taught to climb trees.

The woman who surrendered herself to me.

The woman I loved.

She’s the reason I left California ten years ago. I left to prove myself as someone worthy of her.

And now she’s one of Roger’s women? Is she actually one of the Inner Sanctum?

The thought makes me feel completely fucking unhinged.

I spot Roger standing at a table some distance from her. He’s leaning on his cane, laughing with a blue-eyed man with a Spanish accent who claims to be twentieth in line for the British throne.

It doesn’t matter to me, or to Roger for that matter, what our customers’ stories are, how fantastic or horrible they say they are.

Roger and I sell fantasies. If these men and women want to pay for the privilege of endless drinks, fawning service, and everyone believing their tall tales, then so be it.

But Sienna doesn’t make sense in this world. She doesn’t belong here.

It has been ten years since we last saw each other.

Ten years since I promised I’d be back after I’d conquered some small part of the world.

And I did conquer. I conquered New York and now I’m winning Vegas.

But I never went back.

Even after I read in the papers along with the rest of the world how the Reid mines had been shut down and their assets had been seized.

I didn’t go back even after I read how Mr. Reid retreated from the spotlight and spent the last of their once vast fortune trying to stay out of prison.

I read how Jax took his schooling and his contacts and used them to get into politics.

I followed his elections, first to the House of Representatives and now the U.S. Senate, and how he vowed to clean up corporate kickbacks to government officials. Those kickbacks his father used to keep his family in business. He lambasted his father in the media throughout the campaign.

“I know how the rich guys think,” Jax said in one debate. “I was raised at their feet. But I’m not one of them, I know how to defeat them and fight back for the people.”

The people whispered that Mr. Reid had lost his mind and slipped willingly into dementia.

I knew all of this, but still I didn’t go back to Sienna.

I didn’t call her or email her.

I knew she had to cope alone.

I didn’t go back.

Now it’s been so long since we’ve been in the same room, I didn’t immediately recognize her.

My eyes are drawn to her golden dress. It must be made through some sort of sorcery, the fabric is so fine. It ripples over her like liquid gold.

The dress looks as if it was made for her. It hugs her hips and ass and falls over her tits like second skin.

I should have known her at a glance, but the black hair threw me.

Disguising yourself from me, Golden?

Seeing her smile, I know instantly it is Sienna. For one drawn out minute everything rushes back.

The pit manager is asking me something, but I can’t understand what she wants.

The only thing I can think is that Sienna is here.

Then I see Roger.

Sienna doesn’t see me until she turns around, empty champagne flute in hand, and our eyes connect.

What are you going to say to me, girl? How are you going to explain yourself?

I stalk toward her. I want to demand she get out.

But then I realize she doesn’t need to explain herself to me. She’s been taking care of herself for a long time—who am I to demand anything from her?

Doesn’t mean I don’t want to.

I can see she’s bracing herself for confronting me, but I change course.

I’m hunting Roger now.

I’ve let him work out of here for too fucking long. Selling nights with his women to people more interested in how they appear to the world than how they act in the world.

Selling a night of companionship to people too busy bringing in money to know that they’re sad, lonely, and pathetic.

Now Roger will be selling Sienna to a Spaniard with a shady past or to the film producer with the jowls and nose full of broken capillaries, the one known for cornering actresses in hallways and forcing them into his hotel room.

In theory, the women of the Inner Sanctum don’t have to sleep with their clients. Roger’s modelled the Inner Sanctum on geishas.

His employees are smart and cultured. They’re trained to be able to defend themselves against perverts like the film producer. They’re supposed to act like girlfriends and wives, but sex isn’t required.

The women can choose who they allow to touch them, whom they allow inside their rooms, their beds, themselves. The price is high, and Roger’s women are supposed to enjoy themselves.

I picture Sienna playing this game in one of my hotel’s beds. Her head is thrown back, her mouth open, back arched high. She’s moaning, a man’s head is between her legs and she’s in ecstasy.

I want to fucking break something.

It’s just your imagination. I can’t calm myself down though because I’m right behind Roger now. Before I can stop myself, my hand is wrapping like a vise around his arm. I yank him around to face me.

He stumbles and then regains his balance.

“What are you doing, Roger?” I hiss.

Roger looks down at my hand around his arm, his expression totally unruffled.

“Why Leo,” he says, “how can I calm—I mean, how can help you?”

“What are you doing here?” I say. “You know you can’t be openly working the floor.”

“Don’t worry, Leo,” he says. “Don’t worry. I’m not recruiting anyone. I’m just introducing my newest employee to potential clients.”

He pauses, scrutinizing me. “Would you like to meet her?”

I don’t trust my voice. I gather myself. I straighten my spine to the whole of my six foot two inch frame. I nod.

“Of course,” I say curtly. “I need to know all your employees.”

Roger leans towards me. “You’ll love this one, Leo,” he whispers. “She’s just your type.” He winks at me, like he fucking knows. I want to hit him hard.

“Watch yourself, Roger,” I say, my voice soft.

After a pause, Roger smiles.

“Come on,” he says cajolingly.

I follow him back to the table where Sienna is leaning. She’s been watching us the whole time.

“Leo Asher, meet Sienna Reid,” says Roger, his voice booming. “She’s new, but I think she has a lot of potential and promise. Sienna, this is Leo—he owns this palace and has supported the Sanctum for many, many years.”

She extends her hand for me to take. I grip it, trying not to crush it. I can see the pulse in her neck racing, though her expression is controlled.

“Sienna Reid,” I murmur. “Of all the gin joints.”

“Leo Asher,” she replies. “As I live and breathe.”

We don’t say anything for a moment. I let my eyes take in the contours of her face.

She’s taking in all of me, I can feel her eyes moving down my body. I wonder what she’s seeing. What she’s thinking.

“I didn’t realize,” Roger says, amused. “You two know each other?”

I nod, but keep my eyes on the woman with the golden eyes standing in front of me. “We grew up together. My father worked for her family.”

Sienna smiles at Roger. “I seem to have lost my drink. Buy me another?”

But before he can, I signal to one of the cocktail servers and ask her to bring two drinks—a champagne for her and a scotch rocks with a twist for me.

Roger takes the hint and says something about checking one of his girls who’s working a new client. He leaves us.

We’re alone for the first time in a decade. I want to grab her, pull her against me, maybe throw her over my shoulder and haul her up to my penthouse. But I grit my teeth and grip my drink instead.

“Last I heard, you wanted to be a lawyer,” I say. “Didn’t realize you changed careers, or is this the cliché about having to earn money to get through law school? Is that what’s happening here?”

I sip my drink and smile at her condescendingly. “If that’s the problem, I can give you all the money you could ever want.”

Her eyes flash. I’ve insulted her. I watch her wrestle with herself to keep her temper in check. She was always quick to anger…and quick to forgive.

“And the last I heard,” she says, “you were only going to be gone for a few months and back with a foolproof plan.”

She smiles slowly. “Now that we’ve established that minds can be changed and plans can be altered, what else would you like to talk about?”

“Sienna—”

I’m about to lash out at her, tell she doesn’t have a fucking clue what she’s talking about, but she doesn’t let me start.

“What is it, Leo? What are you going to say?” she says, her eyes flashing. “You left. Life went on. You don’t get to judge me. You don’t get to belittle my choices. You’re taking money from Roger, too. He gives you a cut on what his women bring in. You’re benefitting from this, too. And, even if you weren’t, you’re taking money from the same people I’ll be taking money from. You’re not different than me. You’ve sold out, too. And, hey, we both do that with our clothes on.”

“But you—” I shift so I’m towering over her. “You’re better than this.”

“But me?” Sienna moves toward me, not intimidated by my size or my anger. She places one hand on my chest, smoothing down the lapel of my suit. Even through my layers of clothing, the heat of her touch sears me as if she’s branded me.

She looks up at me through her black lashes. “But me, I get to ask my clients to give me pleasure first. I get to feel desired every time I go to work. Even better, I get to desire. I don’t just get paid, I’m not just making money. My job is just not about getting other people hard. It’s about me getting wet.” She licks her lips. “That’s what you don’t seem to understand.”

Her words both arouse and infuriate me. Fuck, thinking about Sienna, wet and wanting, is something I’m intimately familiar with.

But for someone else? That makes me want to put my fist through a wall.

“Leo, I’m not the girl you left behind,” she says, sounding tired. Then she turns and walks toward Roger, leaving me staring after her.

I know, baby. God, I fucking know.