Chapter 2

The air in the penthouse had changed. It was no longer just the sterile, chilled atmosphere of a corporate high-rise; it had thickened, saturated with the scent of expensive bourbon, sweat, and the musky, heavy charge of unspoken desire. The main game room was still a cacophony of shuffling cards, low murmurs of negotiation, and the clinking of ice against crystal, but I had slipped away. I needed air, or perhaps I needed to be found. I had chosen the latter. I moved toward the private library adjacent to the card room, a space enclosed by floor-to-ceiling glass that offered a panoramic view of the city skyline, though the lights were blurred by the condensation on the panes. I had shed my heels in the hallway, the click-clack of stilettos replaced by the soft, silent glide of my bare feet on the plush Persian rug. The silk dress I wore was a second skin, a pale champagne color that had slipped slightly off one shoulder as I navigated the crowd. I ran a hand over my hip, feeling the cool silk, and caught my reflection in the darkened window. My lips were parted, my eyes wide, searching for him. He