Which is why Savannah was a problem.
A stunning, unexpected, skin-on-fire problem.
His ex.
The one he’d let go.
The one I’d had in my bed last night, clawing at my back, gasping my name.
I hadn’t realized.
Not until this morning.
Not until introductions turned her into a name with history, not just heat.
Now I did.
And suddenly, every second I’d spent wanting her—tasting her—felt like a line I couldn’t uncross.
Another complication in our already strained relationship.
If Miles knew what had happened last night...
But he wouldn't.
Couldn't.
The scandal would damage not just our personal relationship but the company itself.
Turner Holdings' reputation for ethical dealings was its greatest asset, one I'd spent decades building. I wouldn't let one night—no matter how extraordinary—destroy that.
Even if part of me wanted nothing more than to see Savannah again. To discover if last night's connection had been real or merely a product of anonymity and scotch.
I rechecked the time—10:30. Time to head downstairs, to play my part in this farce.
To pretend I hadn't spent the night learning every inch of the body of the woman my son still considered his.
The hotel bar was quiet when I arrived, most wedding guests still at brunch or packing to leave. I claimed a corner table, ordered a black coffee, and opened my tablet to review contracts while I waited.
Work had always been my refuge, my constant. It could be again now.
I had just settled into the familiar rhythm of legal terminology when movement at the entrance caught my eye.
Not Miles, but Savannah.
She stood framed in the doorway, scanning the bar.
When her gaze landed on me, she froze, uncertainty flickering across her features.
She wore the same sundress from brunch, a modest pale blue that somehow managed to hint at the curves I now knew intimately.
For several heartbeats, we looked at each other across the room, the air between us charged with things that couldn't be said.
Shouldn't be acknowledged.
I expected her to turn and leave.
Instead, she squared her shoulders and walked directly to my table, each step deliberate and measured. I set aside my tablet, watching her approach with equal parts dread and anticipation.
