He faked a smile in an attempt to charm his way back into her good graces. Or at least somewhere closer to her good graces than where he stood at the moment. “But, hey—I got us home in one piece. Mostly. Sorry about your luggage. And your dress.”

She stared at him for a long moment, and then said, “You have my father’s check. He’ll contact you about meeting up with him.” She bid a polite good-bye to his family, nodded to him, then strolled away as if he were the last person she ever wanted to see again.

Even then, he was unable to tear his gaze from the hypnotic sway of her hips as she threaded her way through the boisterous travelers thronging the platform.

“Christ alive,” Winter mumbled. “What on earth did you do to that lady?”

“Nothing,” he protested.

Nothing he wanted to, that is.

A slow-walking group of elderly nuns split up their group and obscured his view