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But what am I trying to be safe from? An intruder in the middle of the night, or something else? Something deeper, something stupid—like my own heart.

Before there’s a chance to answer that question, my cell phone rings.

I don’t recognize the number, so I hesitate. But it could be Mina calling to say the quilt made a mistake and I can go home.

Deciding to risk it, I thumb the button to accept the call. “Hello?”

“Hey, Kitty Kat.”

My stomach drops.

“Hey,” I whisper.

“Looks like you just got lucky, getting into that competition.”

Oh, God. Glen already got a new phone number, and he knows about the competition. My insides become molten. “I’m not the only one. There are several other couples.”

“But you’re the one that matters. I know if you win, you wouldn’t mind sharing some of that cash with us, would you? Just think of all the good things we did for you.”

And just like that, I’m ten again—helpless and desperate to be loved.

“What you did for me?” I repeat, unable to process this.

“Yeah, we offered you a real shot when we gave you up. Now it’s time for you to return the favor. Don’t forget about your old man, Kitty Kat, and all we did for you.”

My head swims. My chest tightens. I hang up the phone and grab my inhaler, shaking the canister and taking two quick puffs, the aerosol hiss snapping me out of my daze.

I curl up in a ball atop the bed and rock for a few minutes, until it hits me—what I need to do.

I place a quick call to the spa. Derek answers, “Spa at the Summit.”

“Hey, Derek. It’s Cristina.”

“Yes?” he says, sounding bored.

“Are there any extra clients I can take tomorrow?”

My back and shoulders ache at the thought of work, but it’s the only thing I’ve got, the only thing that will keep me distracted from Glen.

I’ll take anything to keep the memories quiet.

If losing this competition keeps him from owning me again, I’ll do it—spectacularly.

Chapter 14

Rhett

I’ve changed shirts twice, which is ridiculous. This isn’t a date—it’s a strategy session so we can blow the competition without looking like idiots.

I sigh and stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror.

“You are such an idiot, Rhett.”

Not for the shirt, but for telling Cristina that temptation’s not the issue. Which probably came across like You can’t tempt me.

I rub my hands down my face and sigh. Nothing tells a woman I find you repulsive better than You can’t tempt me.

What I meant was, Every time you’re close, I’m gonna do my best not to breathe you in—and fail. Because it feels like you’re more than a temptation. You’re a beacon I’m drawn to.