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She popped him from her mouth. “Then don’t,” she said, looking up at him, holding his gaze as she gave him one long lick before taking him back in fully.

He muttered something raw under his breath as she moved up and down his length. His body was tight and rigid, muscles clenched…until he finally let go, convulsing forward and filling her mouth with the salty tang of him.

A single beat where his body sagged. Then he was lifting her up and tossing her back onto the table, pushing his mouth to hers before he licked down the length of her neck, to her breasts, around her nipples, down her stomach, to her aching centre. He spread her legs wide and buried his mouth between them. He licked and devoured and thrust into her with his fingers. She felt his almost manic insistence as he broke her apart in the best way, the world disappearing inside the rough sensations of his mouth, the firm pressure of his tongue, the forceful drive of his fingers. When she came, she forgot where she was, calling out his name, a thank you thrown to the sky.

DEVRA

Twenty-six minutes. How had she experienced the most earthshattering orgasm of her life with four minutes left to spare? She’d never been one for a quick finish. She needed seduction and time and effort. Although apparently that wasn’t true anymore. Now all she needed was Bradley’s agile tongue. It made her wonder if Noah had simply been an adequate stand-in for intimacy—the first person to show her affection after years of keeping to herself. She’d thought she loved him once. But the meaning of the word was being re-evaluated each day she spent with Bradley.

Devra patted down her hair again, not wanting to confront her long-lost mother with a sex-tousled look. But her previous panic had been replaced by a general calm. And whenever her insecurities threatened to rise again, all she had to do was look over at the ridiculously pleased grin that had become a permanent fixture on Bradley’s face since they’d tidied up in the washrooms and returned to the lobby hand in hand.

He caught her staring and winked. “You’ve got this.”

“I know.”

She thought she did, truly. She was ready to face her mother. But when four minutes came and went, and another ten followed with no sign of the actress, a new unease crept in. Not that Devra couldn’t face this woman, but that she wouldn’t be given the chance. A concern that might have meant little to her a month ago but now, after all the planning and waiting and anticipation, pierced her deeply.

When half an hour passed, what was left of her thumbnail found its way back into her mouth. “She isn’t coming.”

“We don’t know that,” Bradley said. “She might just be running late. While I can’t say I’ve met many celebrities in real life, I get the impression they aren’t the most punctual people.”

Devra forced a smile. More minutes ticked by. Thirty stretched into forty as the hostess shot increasingly sharp daggers at them from across the lobby.

“I’m telling you. She isn’t coming.”

“We can’t give up. We have to keep waiting.”

“For how long?” Every second they accomplished nothing was another second wasted. “It’s already December eighteenth,” she said in a breathless hush. She could almost hear the timer ticking down.

Bradley paled. For a moment, he looked like someone else entirely. Not the charming confident man she knew, but someone younger, a boy anxious for approval. “I’m sorry, Devra. I’m so sorry.” He ran a hand through his blond hair, which looked scragglier than she recalled, in need of a wash and trim. “I thought this was a good idea. I thought—”

He hadn’t stopped talking so much as she stopped being able to hear him. A woman in an elegant white dress had tossed open the French doors of the restaurant, instantly commanding Devra’s full attention. Instantly commanding the entire room. An entourage followed, two women and three men, all attractive in their own rights, their chests engorged with self-importance.

“Isabel,” the woman sang. “How terribly late we are. I hope you’ve kept our table?”

“Of course, Ms. Montgomery,” the hostess demurred. “There is always a table for you at the Waterworth Cafe.”

“Wonderful.”

As the hostess gathered menus, Charlotte Montgomery looked around the room.

Devra stood frozen as her mother’s gaze raked over her. Her heart stopped as their pupils met. Her mother was looking directly at her, and it was impossible to breathe. All those feelings calmed by Bradley’s touch revved back to life. A hundred conflicting thoughts crashing through her in the span of a second before the woman calmly looked away.

Of all the reactions Devra had anticipated, this had not been one.

Charlotte Montgomery didn’t recognize her.

Devra’s chest caved inward from the blow. Her mother had looked right at her but seen right through her. She might as well be invisible to this woman who was now impatiently studying the decor as the hostess fumbled with the wine menu. This woman who had given birth to her, shared her home for ten formative years. This woman who was supposed to love her no matter what. This woman who hadn’t. Leaving a mark like a poorly stitched gash. She wasn’t supposed to leave her, but she definitely wasn’t supposed to forget her! Wasn’t allowed to forget. To get off that eas—

As slowly as a living statue, Ms. Montgomery turned back toward her. She moved in millimetre increments, her eyes unblinking circles. Those eyes landed on Devra for a second time. This time, they stayed. Seconds stretched into an indeterminant length, defying the true nature of time. The world around them disappeared, emptied, grew devoid of sound and physical properties. Until Charlotte tossed a hand to her mouth, the silence broken with a gasp.

“You.” Her lip quivered. “You—You’re…?”

“Yes,” Devra said. “It’s me.”

She thought she sounded composed, bold even. Internally she was anything but. She shifted slightly, unsure what move to make next, but Charlotte Montgomery stumbled backward as though Devra had leaped at her.

“Security to the main entrance.” The hostess spoke into a walkie-talkie, her voice shrill and slicing through the quiet. She stepped out from behind her podium, holding out menus as a shield. “Is this woman bothering you, Ms. Montgomery? We’ll have her escorted from the premises immediately.” At this, she appeared rather smug, though Devra paid her little attention. She was busy studying her mother, the tremble of her mouth, the shakiness of her hands.