Caine took it easy on me for the next few days. He didn’t have me running around doing crappy personal errands. It was his way of extending his hand in a truce and I offered him my hand in return by curbing my smart-ass responses to his requests.

That didn’t mean I wasn’t battling a kaleidoscope of butterflies swarming in my belly on Thursday morning. I’d barely slept and I was stumbling around my apartment trying to make sure I had everything I needed in my overnight bag.

I was just chugging a huge mug of coffee when I saw the black street car pull up outside my building. My mug clattered to the counter as I watched the driver open the back passenger door. Caine stepped out and stared up at the building with a pensive mien. I eyed him hungrily.

He hadn’t shaved in a few days and it looked good on him.

As did the four-thousand-dollar Savile Row suit he’d had commissioned along with a number of others while he was in London. It was a slim fit. It was stylish. It was pure class. And the man wearing it looked like pure class too. Sometimes, when he wasn’t being a jackass, he even was pure class.

I wrenched my gaze from his as he started making his way up the front stoop. My overnight bag was on the couch spilling open.

Toiletries. I needed my toiletries.

My doorbell rang and for one confused moment I stood there wondering how on earth Caine had gotten into the building. I hurried to the door and threw it open with the question on my face.

“Your neighbor let me in,” he explained immediately.

I frowned at my neighbor’s lack of thought to security. “You could be a serial killer.”

He shrugged and stepped forward, forcing me to move back to allow him inside. “I guess I don’t look like one.”

“It was Evelyn who let you in, right?” She was a single career woman much like myself except she was man-crazy and had a different one sneaking out of her apartment every weekend.

“Young, blond?”

I nodded in consternation. “She’s going to get me murdered in my sleep one of these days.”

Caine just nodded absentmindedly and strode into the center of the open living area. He gazed around, taking absolutely everything in.

“I’ll, uh … just be a moment.” I disappeared into the bathroom, grabbing my toiletries bag and my cell phone charger from the side of my bed. When I returned to the living room, Caine was standing in front of one of my windows. I stuffed my things into my overnight bag and zipped it up.

While I did this, Caine turned around, his eyes traveling up to the ceiling and down and then into the kitchen.

Bemused by his curiosity, I said, “What is it?”

He looked back at me. “This is where you live.”

I couldn’t work out his tone or what he meant by the statement, so I just sighed and grabbed my bag. “I’m ready to go.”

Caine strode toward me and reached for the bag.

“What are you doing?” I pulled it back from him. “I can carry my own bag.”

“You have to at least allow me the pretense of being a gentleman.” His large hand wrapped around the strap and he gently tugged it out of my grip.

Following him out, I grumbled, “I hope you’re not going to pretend the entire trip.”

“And why not?”

“Well, I’ve built up a resistance to your ungentlemanliness. My immune system can’t handle politeness from you. I might go into shock and die.” It wasn’t entirely true. In public he was every inch the gentleman. In private not so much. I locked up my apartment and found Caine smirking behind me.

I paused, surprised by the humor in his eyes.

“Ungentlemanliness?” he teased. “I dare you to say that five times fast.”

I eyed him warily. “I mean it. Quit it.”

His reply was to shrug and lead me out to the car in silence. And it seemed he was set to grant me my request. The car ride to the airport was awkward and quiet and I really just wanted to be able to put more than a couple of feet between us.

Upon arrival at the airport, I said to Caine, “I’ll meet you on the other side.”

His eyebrows drew together. “What are you talking about?”

I handed him the boarding pass I’d printed off. “You’re flying first class. That means you go through first-class security and get to wait in the first-class lounge.”

“And what are you?” he asked, snatching my boarding pass from my hand. “Economy? Are you kidding?” he huffed impatiently, and grabbed my bag. Before I could say a word he strode off.

“What are you doing?” I hurried to catch up with him in my stupid heels as he marched to the fast-lane check-in and right up to the check-in clerk.

“We need to upgrade my employee’s ticket to first class. Is that possible?” He slid my boarding pass across the desk to her.

“What are you doing?” I repeated. “I don’t need a first-class seat. I never sat in first class with Benito.”

“That’s because your former boss is a tightfisted bastard. My employees don’t sit in the cheap seats.” He threw me a glare that said, Now, shut up.

Once my ticket was upgraded, Caine tersely ushered me toward the first-class lounge. He dropped our bags at the bar. “I need a drink. Do you need a drink?”

I definitely needed a drink. “A mimosa, please.” I slipped onto a stool beside him and we waited in uncomfortable silence as the bartender poured my drink and got a draft beer for Caine.

A beer.

That was not what I was expecting at all.

For some crazy reason the fact that Caine was drinking a beer in his fancy-ass suit in the first-class lounge made me smile.

Feeling my stare, he glanced at me. “What?”

I looked away and lifted my glass to my lips. “Nothing,” I muttered.

“Lexie?” I jerked in surprise at hearing my name called from behind me and spun around on my stool. My eyes moved up the tall, fit, stylishly attired body standing inches from me until they stopped on the familiar handsome face of Antoine Faucheux.

“Oh my gosh, Antoine.” I hopped off the stool to hug him and felt his strong arms wrap around me.

He gave me a squeeze and kissed me once on both cheeks. His dark brown eyes glittered happily into mine.

Antoine was the men’s fashion buyer at Le Bon Marche in Paris. We’d known each other for four years because of my work with Benito. Mostly we met up while I was in Paris with Benito, but the last time I’d seen him was in New York when he came over for fashion week. He’d even propositioned me the first time we hung out, but I was in a relationship at the time, and the next time we met he was in a relationship, and so on and so forth. It was a shame. Definitely a missed opportunity.

He shot a look over my shoulder and I tensed, remembering we had an audience. I glanced back at Caine, whose hard appearance didn’t exactly compel a person to be friendly, but my mother had raised me to be well mannered. “Antoine, this is my boss, Caine Carraway. Mr. Carraway, this is a friend of mine, Antoine Faucheux.”

Antoine held out a hand with a polite smile. “It’s nice to meet you,” he said in his gorgeous accent.

Caine stared at his hand and for a moment I worried he wasn’t going to shake it. I breathed a sigh of relief when he did.

Antoine immediately focused on me. “It’s so good to see you. I’m over here visiting a friend and I met up with Benito. I was shocked when he told me he fired you. What an idiot.” He tilted his head and gave me his sexy low-lidded stare I liked so much. “I’ve never seen anyone anticipate someone’s needs the way you did Benito’s. You know he’s having a terrible time without you.”

I grinned, feeling smug. “Good.”

Antoine laughed and then shot another glance behind me at Caine. “It looks like you’re doing fine.”

It did look like that, and I had no intention of telling Antoine the truth. Instead I gave him a noncommittal smile and a shrug.

“Well”—he pouted a little and it would have looked ridiculous on any man but him—“I have to catch my flight to Paris. It was a short trip this time, but next time I’m in Boston, or New York even, we should catch up.” He lowered his voice and gave me a knowing look. “Noelle and I broke up and I heard you’re not seeing anyone, yes?”

Oh, balls.

Heat radiated from behind me and I knew Caine had heard and interpreted Antoine’s comment. It wasn’t like it was hard to understand.

I never thought I’d want to run my way out of the hot boy sandwich I was in the middle of, but if the floor had opened up in front of me I’d have dived right into the gaping hole to escape the utterly awful awkwardness.

“True,” I murmured.

“And of course if you’re ever in Paris …” He leaned down and kissed me on my cheeks again, this time more slowly. His hand rested on my waist. “The new job suits you. You look beautiful.”

And if we’d had this encounter a few weeks ago, I’d be putty in his sexy-as-sin French hands.

Unfortunately my mind was muddled enough by the brooding businessman whose stare was burning holes into my skull. “Thank you,” I replied. “I’ll hopefully see you soon.”

Antoine smiled and then gave Caine a nod of acknowledgment before he left.

I gathered myself before sliding back onto the stool beside Caine and his foreboding expression.

I sucked in my breath and waited.

Just as I was beginning to think he wasn’t going to comment and I could relax, he finished his beer and scowled at me. “I presume you realize he wants to fuck you.”

I wrinkled my nose in distaste at his crudeness. “You really took my word for it on the whole not-pretending-to-be-a-gentleman thing, huh?”

He ignored me. “The question is, do you want to fuck him?”

Oh no. He did not get to be angry or jealous. And yes, okay, maybe I felt a little thrill course through me at the idea that he was jealous of Antoine, but at the same time it was unfair and confusing! Caine had already made it clear that what he got from me on Saturday night was all he was willing to take. He was not messing with my head now.

My answer to him was to slide off the stool with my drink. I sauntered casually across the room, as far as I could get from him, and settled in a seat with my mimosa and magazine.

I was glad we had an aisle between us in first class, because I was more likely to punch Caine than speak to him. Six hours later when the plane landed in Seattle, I was much calmer and actually managed to be civil to him as we made our way out of the airport to find our chauffeur waiting for us.

We were staying at the Fairmont Olympic and I tried not to gape as we wandered inside. I’d stayed at nice hotels before, but Benito favored extremely modern hotels. The Fairmont was old-school beautiful with its high ceiling and grand twin staircase at the end of the reception hall. Plush, expensive traditional chairs and sofas furnished the hall, and giant crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting light over all the gleaming chestnut wood.

“Checking in under Carraway,” Caine said as a greeting to the young woman behind the desk.

She smiled and began typing on her computer. “Mr. Caine Carraway and a Ms. Alexa Holland. We have you booked for a deluxe executive suite, and a standard Fairmont room for Ms. Holland.”

Caine exhaled wearily and shot me a displeased look. “Again?”

I knew what he meant without having to ask. “I’m your PA. I’m perfectly happy with a standard room.”

He ignored me. “Can you upgrade the Fairmont room to a suite?”

The girl did a quick check and gave Caine an apologetic thin-lipped smile. “We only have a deluxe room available.”

“That’ll do.”

After we’d checked in and were walking toward the elevator, I said, “You really didn’t have to do that.”

“I’m not repeating myself,” he muttered impatiently.

“Right, appearances,” I muttered back.

Caine walked me to my room even though his was a couple of floors above mine. Once inside my perfectly lovely deluxe room, I spun around to face him. He lowered my bag to the floor by the television cabinet. “The dinner with Farrah Rochdale and Lewis Sheen is in the hotel restaurant,” I reminded him. “At seven o’ clock.”

He gave me a tight nod and started to back out of the room. “I’ll collect you at six fifty.”

A few seconds later he was gone and I could breathe properly again. I sank onto the beautiful bed and kicked off my heels. As I stared at the door, a feeling of melancholy began to bring me down. I fought to keep it at bay.

I just had to make it through dinner this evening and then tomorrow we were on that plane back to Boston. It was safer somehow in Boston. I could hold it together. Here, in close quarters with him, I was constantly reminded of the possibility between us, and Caine’s stubborn-ass refusal to see what might have been.

Promptly at six fifty I opened my hotel room door to Caine and I had to quickly look at my feet to hide my reaction to his appearance. He’d shaved off his scruff—the clean-shaven look was as hot as the unshaven look—and he was dressed in a light gray slim-fit three-piece suit.

“Ready?”

I nodded and closed the door behind me, following him as he started walking down the hall. He made no comment on my appearance and I tried not to let that sting.

Of course it did.

I’d dressed carefully in a simple but sexy little black dress. It had a high neck, it was sleeveless, and it came to a few inches above my knee. It also hugged my body like a second skin. I’d whipped out the Louboutins I’d gotten for free at a magazine shoot a couple of years ago. For once I left my hair loose and wavy. It wasn’t Caine’s preferred style, but I was feeling rebellious.

In the restaurant we were led over to a table where a thirtysomething woman and her fortysomething colleague sat. Farrah Rochdale was CEO of Rochdale Financial Management, and Lewis Sheen was her CFO. The company had started up two generations before, but when it had finally made it into Farrah’s hands it was struggling to draw in new clientele despite having helped some of the country’s fastest-growing businesses in the past. Caine’s company came along to save a company they believed could do well again. They brought Rochdale under their umbrella and injected money and influence into the business. It was now thriving as one of the West Coast’s foremost financial management groups as part of Carraway Holdings.

However, Farrah had requested a face-to-face meeting with Caine to discuss something of importance that would affect the company.

I didn’t know what to expect of the meeting or what was going on. I just knew I hadn’t expected Farrah Rochdale to be so young or attractive. She and Lewis stood up at our approach and I noted how tall she was. Her auburn hair was twisted up in a stylish knot and she was dressed in a gorgeous lilac wraparound dress that showcased her phenomenal figure. Farrah stepped forward to receive a familiar kiss on the cheek from Caine before he offered his hand to her CFO.

“This is my PA, Alexa,” he introduced me, and I shook Farrah’s hand first, feeling the burn of her curiosity on my face.

With much relief I let go of her hand and turned to Lewis. He smiled and took my hand, but instead of shaking it he brought it to his lips in an old-fashioned gesture that I found charming.

“Shall we sit?” Caine pulled my seat out for me and Lewis gently released my hand.

I wasn’t surprised by Caine’s gentlemanly gesture. We were in public and one of the many things Caine did that was pure class was that he always pulled out my chair for me at business meetings. Moreover, he waited until I was seated before he sat, and if I stood up to leave for any reason he always stood up too.

Lewis followed suit with his CEO’s chair, and once Farrah and I were seated, the guys settled down beside us. I sat directly across from Farrah and had Caine on my left and Lewis on my right, and I could feel Farrah’s gaze on me as I looked at my menu.

It wasn’t until after we’d ordered that Caine relaxed back in his chair and asked Farrah, “So, what’s the problem?”

She released a heavy sigh. “I want to step down.”

Caine frowned. “Why on earth would you do that?”

“Caine.” Farrah sat forward, her tone suggesting familiarity between them, “You know I never wanted to take over my family’s company.”

I found myself scrutinizing Caine’s response to her and felt a burn of discomfort in my chest at his own familiarity with her. “And yet you fought so hard for it?”

There was definitely something there between them.

I couldn’t put my finger on it, yet I just knew. It was in the way they looked at each other. In their soft tones.

She smiled. “I didn’t want the company, but I also didn’t want my grandfather’s legacy to die. My own father worked himself into an early grave for the company. I couldn’t just let it all be for nothing. But now it’s time for me to move on.”

Caine was silent upon this declaration. The starters arrived before he could say anything and we’d just begun eating when he stopped. “You realize that my board of directors will have strong opinions on who your successor should be?”

Farrah rewarded him with an intimate smile and I swallowed past a lump of jealousy in my throat. Yup. They’d definitely been together. “Yes, which is why I asked you here. The company is called Carraway Financial Holdings. You have a strong influence, and I know you’ll take my recommendation to heart.”

Caine gave nothing away. He flicked a glance at Lewis Sheen. “You want Lewis to take over.”

Farrah smiled at her CFO. “He knows the company better than anyone. He knows where we were and where we’re going.”

“And I care what happens to the company,” Lewis added. “Which is a rare commodity in an employee of modern business.”

Caine stared at him a few moments. “I agree.”

Farrah and Lewis seemed to deflate with relief. “Thank you, Caine.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I can only do so much.”

She smiled gratefully at him. “I know exactly what you’re capable of.”

I tried to act normally after that, but it was hard. My skin felt like it was on fire and I just wanted to be anywhere but sitting at that table with Caine and his ex-lover.

They discussed Lewis’s possible takeover for a while until the conversation turned to what Farrah intended to move on to, and while she told Caine about the job offer she’d received in the finance department of a major fashion line in New York, Lewis attempted to engage me in conversation. I tried my best to concentrate, but it was difficult when I wanted to be as far from the table as possible.

After we’d finished eating and Caine, Farrah, and I had ordered coffees, Lewis stood up. “I apologize, but I promised my wife I wouldn’t be late home tonight.” He smiled down at me. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Alexa.” He held out his hand to Caine. “As always, a delight, Mr. Carraway. Thank you so much for taking the time to meet with us, and for appreciating what I can bring to the table.” He nodded at Farrah. “We’ll talk soon.”

We bade him good-bye and I sank deeper into my chair, wishing I had an excuse to leave too. I did not want to be the third wheel in this situation.

However, Farrah seemed to have forgotten my existence. I didn’t think it was deliberate. I think she was just that smitten with Caine.

She hogged the conversation, turning it personal as she brought up a number of dinner parties they’d attended together. Although Caine was his usual difficult-to-read self, he did seem marginally more relaxed around her and I almost hated her for that. The only thing that made watching her stroke his arm and laugh about the good old times together was the fact that she didn’t make Caine laugh and he rarely smiled.

That would have killed me if she’d managed that feat.

The flirting, though, was enough to do some serious damage. The truth was I didn’t even know why I was there in the first place. Caine didn’t need me here for this and he certainly didn’t need me there to witness him flirt with a woman who was obviously an old flame.

I didn’t want to watch them rekindle something.

My stomach was sick. I wanted a stiff drink, far away from him.

I stood up abruptly and a bewildered Caine got to his feet too. “If you’ll excuse me I think I’ll call it a night.”

He frowned but nodded.

I nodded at Farrah. “It was a pleasure to meet you.” Fucking lie!

She bestowed upon me a vague smile. “You too.”

Without sparing Caine another glance, I walked out of the restaurant and headed through the hotel to the bar. I found an empty stool at the bar and settled in.

The young bartender smiled at me. “What can I get you, madam?”

Ugh, when did I become a “madam”? Just one more thing a drink would help me forget about. “Glenlivet on the rocks.”

The bartender didn’t even blink at my order and he was back a few seconds later with the drink. I took a sip, letting the heat of the scotch slide down my throat and spread out across my chest. I instantly felt a little more relaxed.

For a while I sat there, nursing my scotch and playing around with my cell. Rachel had sent me a picture of Maisy sitting on her husband Jeff’s back. Jeff was flat out on his stomach on the floor, and his hands had been tied behind his back.

Your kid worries me, I texted in return.

A few seconds later my cell pinged. I know, right? It’s hilarious.

I grimaced and shoved my phone in my purse. To Rachel, Maisy was hilarious. To the rest of us she was a demon child.

“Can I get you another?”

Surprised by the closeness of the voice, I felt my body give a little jerk. A young guy in a suit was sliding onto the stool beside me. I took him in, feeling a little buzzed. He was attractive and there was a sparkle of good humor in his eyes that I liked.

What the hell?

“You may.”

He grinned. “What’ll it be?” I told him, and his grin widened. “Scotch?”

I smiled unhappily. “I’m drowning my sorrows.”

The guy waved down the bartender and ordered two whiskies. When his attention returned to me, he said, “Why is a pretty thing like you drowning your sorrows?”

I made a face.

He laughed. “What?”

“Pretty thing? Really?”

“I just say it like I see it.” He held out his hand. “I’m Barry.”

I took his hand. “Alexa.”

“So, Alexa, I’ll ask again … why are you drowning your sorrows?”

Wrapping my hand around the glass of scotch the bartender put in front of me, I tilted my head in a coy gesture. “Guess.”

“Hmm … career troubles?”

I snapped my fingers and pointed to him. “Bingo.”

Barry smiled and leaned closer. “Well, why don’t we see how long it takes me to make you forget about your troubles?”

“What the hell? I’ve got nothing to lose. Give it your best shot, Barry.”

And he did.

We talked about music and movies, and I argued fervently in favor of the Red Sox while he argued for the Mariners, and we did it in a flirty, suggestive way that soothed the wounds to my feminine vanity. We didn’t discuss anything serious and for a little while it was wonderful to be buzzed, relaxed, and admired.

I didn’t know how long we’d been sitting there, but my second scotch was nearly finished and I was thinking it was time for another when Barry suddenly slid his hand along my thigh.

“Why don’t we take this up to your room?”

Looking down at his hand on my leg, I had to admit that there was a part of me that actually thought about it. I wanted to forget what it felt like to feel Caine all around me, and surely the old adage was true—the best way to get over someone was to get under someone new. With the scotch hot in my blood, that suddenly sounded like very good advice.

“Or better yet, why don’t you remove your hand before I break it?”

The breath went out of my body at the menacing voice.

I stared up at Caine, who towered over us, his dark gaze scorching Barry.

Barry flushed and started a stumbling slide from his stool. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

He scampered off before I could do anything to stop him. Not that I wanted to now—there was nothing more unattractive than a scaredy-cat. Although … taking in the look on Caine’s face, I couldn’t imagine many men wouldn’t find him intimidating. “What was that?”

The muscle was working overtime in his clenched jaw. It took him a few seconds to manage to utter the words, “That was me stopping you from making a drunken mistake. A mistake you’ll regret in the morning.” His warm hand wrapped around my elbow and he gently guided me off the stool. “Let’s get you to your room.”

I jerked out of his hold, infuriated by his high-handedness. “What? You’re done ignoring me while you flirt with Farrah Rochdale so you thought you’d come spoil my fun?”

Caine’s features hardened, but he didn’t answer. Instead he gripped my elbow again and began striding through the bar.

There was nothing I could do. If I attempted to stop him I’d just make a scene, and despite what he thought, I was buzzed, not drunk.

He manhandled me into the elevator. “I wasn’t ignoring you. You were ignoring me.”

The elevator began to rise. “Oh yes, of course. How silly of me. I was the one to blame when you were flirting with another woman right in front of me merely days after we had sex.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but Farrah and I are just old friends. I never mix business with pleasure.”

I shot him a look. “I know from personal experience that’s not true.”

Color appeared high on his cheekbones. “Usua—”

The abrupt halt of the elevator and its doors opening cut him off. I hurried out, hoping he wouldn’t follow.

I had no such luck. Caine caught up to me and grabbed my arm again.

“I’m perfectly capable of making it to my room.”

Instead of listening to me, he took my purse out of my hand and raked through it for the room key.

“I’m not drunk,” I insisted.

“So that was a sober decision to flirt with that asshole?” he asked, his voice tight, as we stopped at my door.

I huffed and waited for him to open it. To my dismay he pushed his way in first, holding the door open for me.

“You can leave.” I glowered at him and strode inside.

I bent down to tug off my shoes, whirling and almost falling when I heard the door shut behind me.

Caine stood watching me.

“You can leave,” I repeated

He just stared at me in that intense, overwhelming way of his.

“What?” I snapped. “What now?”

“I’m sorry if I hurt you tonight,” he said, and for some reason his apology only fanned the flames of my anger. “You don’t deserve that.”

Whether it was the alcohol or a buildup of tension from the past few weeks of ignoring our chemistry, my self-control slipped. The hurt and fury just exploded out of me. “You know what? You’re right. I deserve better. I’ve deserved better my whole life, but I never got it. Neither did my mother.” I let all my pain blaze out at him and he stood there, frozen by my words. “But my mom refused to ask for better. I won’t make that same mistake.

“From the moment my father told me what he did to your mom, to your family, I cut him out of my life.” I watched how this information made Caine’s eyes glitter, arrested on my face. “I used to think he was some kind of hero,” I whispered. “Some kind of fairy-tale prince who came around on my birthday and showered me with gifts and made my mom really happy. Then suddenly he was there all the time. I thought he’d finally come to save us. And I kept thinking of him like that until I was a teenager, until I was old enough to see how spoiled and lazy and entitled he was. How he made my mom cry more than he made her laugh. But I pretended.” I gave a huff of bitter laughter as I remembered the way I’d stuck my head in the sand.

“I kept pretending right up until seven years ago when he confessed his sins. I hated him for what he did to your mother. I hated him for lying to me all those years, for having a family I knew nothing about, for coming to us because we were all he had left, his only recourse. I left home. But I couldn’t let it go until I knew everything. So I went back and I asked my father your mother’s name, your name, but he wouldn’t tell me. I decided I didn’t need to know your name. I just needed my father to apologize to you, to prove he really was remorseful and that whatever he was going through wasn’t just about him, but about the people he hurt. But he refused. So I told him I didn’t want anything to do with him ever again, and I never went back.

“I lost my mom because of him. She refused to walk away from him and she blamed me for the rift. Now I can’t fix the relationship I helped break, because she’s dead, she’s gone … And all I’ve got left in this world is a grandfather who’s too ashamed to acknowledge me and a boss who gets a kick out of treating me like shit.” My voice hardened. “Well, no more. I am done with this game. Because I am not my father and I would never hurt people the way he did. I wanted you to see that. I wanted you to see me. To see … to see that I get it. I’ve never deserved your contempt. And I won’t put up with it anymore.” I gestured, weary of it all, to the door. “Just get out, Caine.”

I was too angry to see the change in his expression, to hear the softness when he said my name.

“Caine, get out.”

“Lexie, I never knew any of that.”

“Because you never bothered to ask!” I yelled. “And now it doesn’t matter. When we get back to Boston, I’m done. Screw the two weeks. This is over now.” I whipped around, walking away from him toward the bathroom, hoping by the time I got out of there he’d be gone.

But I didn’t even make it inside.

I heard the quick footsteps behind me seconds before I was yanked around and crushed against him.

He whispered my name before his head dipped and his lips came down on mine.