Sabrina reached over her legs with a groan.

Air travel and hotel beds made her stiff. And tossing and turning all night. Wondering what the hell Nick had up his sleeve.

She was stretching in her room after using the hotel gym. She'd pounded the treadmill for almost an hour, trying to clear her head.

It didn't work.

Her mind was full of recriminations, confusion, and conflicting desires. On one hand, she was embarrassed that she'd been rejected. On the other, she was starting to suspect that Nick's feelings for her were sincere.

She wasn't sure if she wanted to let him in after the fiasco last night. It had been an unmitigated disaster. But she had a strong suspicion that he wasn't going to give up.

Never mind that she'd further jeopardized her career by even inviting him to her hotel room.

Her mother would not be pleased.

She felt nice and loose at least, for the first time since she'd found out she was going on this tour. If only it was just a regular scouting trip, or Nick was just a regular client… maybe she would be less tense. Maybe if he'd actually needed her there, instead of just wanting her there.

He did want her though. That much was certain. If he'd turned down a quick roll in the hay then he probably wanted more than she'd initially thought. Right?

Three knocks sounded on the door.

She pushed her hair out of her face and opened it, half expecting to see Nick. Marley stood there with a basket in his hands. He held it toward her.

"Special delivery."

He grinned cheekily as she took the basket. Then he tipped his hat and left.

She carried it inside and set it down on the table. There was a folded note on top. She opened it.

Christ, did he think that was funny? Even she knew that Galvin’s was on the twenty-eighth floor of the London Hilton. He already knew she was not a fan of heights. And besides, she hadn't agreed to dinner.

She shook her head at his persistence and pulled off the napkin that was covering the contents of the basket.

And froze.

There were dozens of magazines and newspapers inside the basket. From what she could tell, they all had one thing in common.

Her.

Her face was on the cover. With his. Not small this time. Her face was ‘bloody huge’, as Nick would say.

Dear God.

She sank to the chair and flipped through the stack, feeling suddenly weak. Every single one had a picture of them separately, or together. There were even some photos of him helping her out of the limo the day before. He had a warm look in his eyes, while she looked utterly preoccupied.

Oh dear.

She chewed her lip. Had he really been looking at her like that the whole time? He must have been. He was wearing his heart on his sleeve in every single shot.

This was far worse than she could have imagined. It took her a few minutes of staring blindly at the basket before she realized that all the headlines were nearly identical. It was the same message, listed over and over again. The message was for her.

She choked back a hysterical laugh. What on Earth was he playing at? And how had he pulled this off?

She picked up a copy of the Daily Mirror. It was a rag in the true sense of the word; pure sensationalism. Not surprisingly, they had used half the front page to cover the story. After all, this was Nick's home territory.

Lord knows, they adored their prodigal son.

There was a picture of a younger Nick smoking a cigarette and looking wild and rangy. Inset inside the image was a close up of her. She was staring straight forward with a slightly aggravated smile, like she was busy and didn’t have time to pose for a picture. The picture looked familiar somehow. She gasped and ran for her purse, yanking out her wallet.

She fished through it until she found it. Her work ID.

My God.

They must have gotten it from someone at the label. Wow. Thanks guys.

This was bad. This was very, very bad.

She walked back to the table and sat down again. She picked up the paper and read.

She strangled back a laugh. He'd done it. He'd really done it. He had her good and trapped. She was almost ready to give in to him. But this also smacked of bullying, didn't it? She'd been told what to do her whole life. For once, she wanted to make her own decision.

Just then there was another knock at the door.

She opened it, expecting to see Marley again. But it was a waiter with an enormous cart.

"Room service!"

"But I didn't order anything."

"Mr. Falcon thought you might need sustenance."

She stepped aside as he rolled the cart into the room. He lifted tray after tray, revealing an absurd number of breakfast dishes.

"It's too much!"

The waiter nodded proudly.

"He ordered the whole menu."

Her mouth opened as the waiter bowed and headed for the door.

"Wait- your tip!"

"It's been taken care of Ms. Newton. Oh, and if I may be so bold, date Nick!"

She stared at the door after he closed it behind him, then back at the food. This was just the start of it, she was certain.

She picked up a fork and started lifting trays. She better eat something. She was going to need her strength.

It was going to be a long day.