Colin, present day

---

Cecilia was wrapped tightly against him, pressed firmly against his chest, her legs intertwined with his. Colin moaned and pulled her closer, leaning down to press a kiss to the valley of her breasts.

Then frowned.

Her skin wasn’t as soft as he remembered, her curves not as lush. It was almost as though she weren’t—

His eyes shot open when something tightened around his neck.

He blinked, searching the space around him, abruptly aware of the cold bed. The linens were soft for a hotel but rough when compared to his woman’s skin. And they might have been wound around him but they were decidedly unlike CeCe’s curves.

The room was also dark.

Colin cursed and sat up, tearing away the cotton sheet that had somehow become wrapped around his throat.

He saw the clock and cursed, seeing that he’d slept the day away.

And Cecilia was gone.

He knew that in his bones.

“Fuck,” he muttered, trying to sift through his sleepy mind, trying to understand how he’d come to wake alone when last he’d remembered Cecilia had been beneath him on that very bed.

His eyes lit on a note faintly illuminated by the clock and propped onto the bedside table. A little bottle of water and some aspirin were positioned next to it.

---

---

Colin grunted, starting to crumple the note before stopping and instead carefully folding it and putting it into his pocket. “Have a nice life,” he muttered, getting out of bed and ignoring the pills. He wasn’t a child any longer, and he didn’t have a hangover. Yes, he might have drunk a little more than normal the previous night, but he’d been in full possession of his abilities.

Except somehow you fell asleep with the most beautiful woman in the world in your arms, you arsewipe, his brain conveniently reminded him.

Because yes, there was that. He’d had Cecilia in his arms, pliable and warm and delicious and . . .

That was the last thing he remembered.

So maybe he was slightly out of practice in the whiskey-bingeing department.

Sighing, Colin reached into his satchel and pulled out his phone, checking his emails and sending a text to his assistant to clear his schedule for the foreseeable future.

This was why he’d trained his COO and CFO. So he could have a life.

And he intended to finally have one.

Which was why he called his other assistant—the one who specialized in remembering birthdays and selecting the perfect arrangement of flowers for his mother. Joanne had been around the McGregors for decades and had been managing his life since his father died.

She’d also loved Cecilia.

“Joanie,” he said. “I have a problem that doesn’t involve an artistic arrangement of lilies. Or well, it might involve them. If she likes those, which I can’t remember—”

“She?” Joanne asked.

He pulled on his pants, pinning the phone between his ear and shoulder. “I’m getting Cecilia back.”

“Finally,” Joanne said, and he could almost hear her smile through the airwaves. “But, Colin dear, it’s yellow daffodils that she adores. Though, I don’t think flowers are going to mend—”

“I don’t need flowers,” he said. “Though I’m sure I will at some point,” he added, filing CeCe’s preference in flowers away. “For now I need you to ready my plane for a flight to Finland.”

“Ohhh.” Joanne’s breath slid out on a sigh. “The northern lights. Colin, that was always her dream. It’s so romantic.”

“Except she left without me.”

He heard Joanne’s teeth click closed. “Okay, that’s less so.”

Colin snorted. “I agree.” He rattled off the name of the resort he’d seen on the brochure that had fallen out of her bag at the airport. “I need a flight as close as possible to there.”

“And a room?”

“No,” he said. “I’m hoping she’ll take a poor sod in out of the cold.”

Joanne huffed. “I wouldn’t be so sure, my dear. After what you and your family did to that poor girl—”

Colin’s gut tightened. “What Joanie? What did we do?”

A pause. “You were too drunk to remember?”

“I was drunk for weeks,” he reminded her.

She sighed and the silence stretched between them. “The plane will be ready in two hours.” Another sigh. “But, Colin, if you don’t want your arse to be frozen solid in Finland, I would be prepared to get on your knees and beg.”

Fuck.

“It’s that bad?” he asked.

“My boy,” she began before clearing her throat. “It’s not good.”

He opened his mouth to press for details before clamping it closed. The person he needed to discuss this with was Cecilia.

The person he apparently needed to beg for forgiveness was Cecilia.

Colin shoved his feet into his shoes and hoped there wouldn’t be any snow on the ground because his damn slacks weren’t the least bit waterproof.