Chapter 61

Kent storms into the dining room, where the table is set for four. He sits down hard in his chair at the head of the table, waving at the place settings on either side of him.

“Remove these,” he says to the waitstaff, biting off the words in his frustration. “Have Daniel’s and Fay’s plates sent up to Fay’s room, they’ll take their supper there.”

The waitstaff give each other worried looks but silently do as they’re told. The chef comes out next, looking around the room.

“Sir?” He asks, his French accent heavy in the word. “Will you be dining alone?”

“Apparently,” Kent says, angry that Fiona isn’t here either. “Please bring it out.”

The chef nods, impassive, and heads back into the kitchen. A few moments later he appears again with Kent’s first course – salmon tartare with a small side salad and a freshly–sliced French

baguette.

Kent ignores the fish and reaches directly for the bread, slathering

it with butter as he sits back in his chair and thinks.

Thinks, inevitably, about her.

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would break. He had tried tried to break the mood, to

pounding on the wall

she had just kept crying-

not

so something–anything–to

had just asserted upstairs. Kicking him

tried, these past few weeks. Tried

ignore her when

the air-

expressions of her face, when she’s shocked,

happy, sad, angry-

with that fire in her eyes, that courage she drags up from somewhere deep in her soul – he loves

those few times

caught her spying on him in the

pinned her against the hall

Chapter 61

her, then- the defiance

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press her up against the wall, press the length of himself up against her ass as he slipped his hand beneath her shirt, taught her

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