Chapter 33

Ashley crossed the room to his sideboard as soon as the elevator deposited him in his penthouse, desperate for a drink. “You did the right thing,” he assured himself as he poured. “Of course you did the right thing.”

But the little lick of fear at the base of his skull and the frustration of doing the right thing weren’t enough to subdue the stirrings of desire low in his gut. He was already falling into the familiar pattern of replaying their entire conversation in his head, looking for clues, looking for signs, looking for a place where things might have been nudged into a different direction.

Lifting the glass, he gulped his drink without pause, his gaze wandering over the room. It fell on the tie he had discarded thoughtlessly the night before. Red silk. It snagged in his imagination, and his groin tightened.