Page 106 of Diego

Blair does not.

Something knowing enters her eyes, and I wonder whether she realizes exactly why my morning suddenly had all the availability in the world.

She probably does.

Good.

“Then I suppose you’re getting the full experience,” she says.

“I was hoping for that.”

Her gaze holds mine for a beat too long.

There is that same current that appeared between us the first morning she stood outside Meridian waiting for me.

A week of assistants, emails, documents, and professionally worded messages has done absolutely nothing to weaken it.

If anything, absence has made it worse.

Blair looks away first. “They’re starting in the primary suite next.”

Of course they are.

I smile slowly.

She sees it and ignores it.

Blair turns toward the hallway. “Come on. Your people are waiting.”

Ricardo starts after her.

I follow a few steps behind, giving myself an unobstructed view of those extraordinarily long legs and the ice-pick heels carrying her toward the bedroom where I last saw considerably more of her.

Apparently, seven days have taught me only one thing.

Whatever happened between Blair Owens and me was not something I left behind in this penthouse.

The inspection drags on exactly as long as Blair warned me it would.

And we're not even done.

We have already been through the primary suite, two guest rooms, the HVAC access points, and enough electrical panels to make me question whether buying a tent somewhere would have been simpler.

Ricardo remains engaged through all of it, asking the inspectors questions that are actually useful while I divide my attention between the answers and Blair.

She has been impeccable.

Not a glance held too long. Not a private joke. Not one word that could give Ricardo or anyone else reason to think there has ever been anything between us beyond a broker showing a client property.

We are in the office now, one of the inspectors crouched near the built-in cabinetry while another finishes checking the windows and the soundproofing that originally caught my attention. Blair stands beside the desk with her tablet, listening as the inspector explains that everything here appears to be functioning as expected.

“Good,” I say. “This room is one of my favorites.”

Ricardo looks around once more. “I can see why.”

The lead inspector makes a note on his tablet and straightens. “We’re going to move into the kitchen and wine storage next.”

Ricardo’s head turns immediately.