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her so much. She knew she should leave well enough alone. If
she wasn’t discreet, she could blow open a can of catastrophic
publicity when all she craved was privacy.
As she scrolled through sites, she found herself thinking
about changing her flight. A ridiculous idea. She was a grown
woman. A widow. She’d seen more things than most people
could hope to experience in a lifetime, and now she was struck
stupid over a girl who probably wasn’t even of legal drinking
age, even though she was sitting in that lounge.
Cassia wasn’t just an escort. She seemed naïve. She’d said
herself that she came from a life of wealth and privilege,
which meant she was spoiled. She was exactly the kind of
woman Adalynn could never see herself being with.
Being with? You couldn’t see yourself being with anyone.
She ignored the sarcastic voice in her head again. She told
herself that Cassia might have come from that life, but she was
now working a tough job in an industry that could be brutal,
trying to make her way, trying to scrape herself off the street
and put herself back together. She was trying to give herself a
future. Maybe that was what struck Adalynn so hard. Cassia
reminded her of herself. Hadn’t she done the same thing, only
in a different way? She cringed to think of it like that. Pierre
had been infatuated with her beauty, her grace, and her
naivety, and she’d used that to her advantage. She’d only
fallen in love later. He’d become her best friend, but that was
years in the making. It was deeper for her than anything
sexual, but it took a long time to develop.
She’d told Cassia that Pierre had known he couldn’t fulfill a
part of her, but he didn’t know why that was. She knew that,
despite what she’d told Cassia the night before. She couldn’t
