Then the men’s voices grew louder, accompanying their footsteps toward the cellar entrance. They’d have to pass by us again to get there, and if they got a sudden craving for an eight-year-old Cabernet—or even just glanced to their left—we were screwed.

Kori’s breathing grew shallow and quick. She turned toward the sound of their steps and her gaze flitted back and forth as she tried to spot them through the racks all around us. I knew what she was thinking. What were the chances that they’d miss us twice? How could they not spot her phone?

I pulled her close, careful not to grab her arm and trigger automatic resistance, and with her pressed against my chest, her cheek on my shoulder, I wrapped the shadows around us. Not true darkness—an anomaly like that would be noticed in a semilit room—but just a thickening of the existing shadows, decreasing the chances that a casual glance our way would reveal us.

We both wore dark clothes, which blended easily into the shadows, leaving her face and hair the only pale spots in my darkness. So as the voices came closer, the footsteps echoing from mere feet away now, I wrapped my arms around her and turned us both carefully, putting my body—my own dark head and clothing—between her and the rest of the cellar.

She tensed, but didn’t object, and I knew she wasn’t used to being sheltered. Kori was the type to throw herself in front of a bullet to protect someone else, but I wanted her to know it didn’t always have to be like that. That she didn’t have to fight the world alone. That I wanted to fight with her. If she would let me.

The host and his customer passed our aisle, and I turned my head to watch their progress across the open area. And as I rotated us again, I couldn’t resist touching her hair, where it trailed down her back. It was so impossibly soft, as if her hard edges couldn’t quite tame that one feature, or disguise its beauty with function.

When the lights went out and the cellar door finally closed, we both exhaled in relief. But I held her a second longer, with no good excuse. And when I let her go, she stayed pressed against me for one more second, and my heart beat harder. I wanted to freeze that moment in time and live there for eternity. Alone in the dark with Kori. No immediate threats. No fear strong enough to push her away from me. No lies standing between us.

However, like all good things, that moment expired and real life descended again, bringing with it bitter obligations we couldn’t ignore. But things were different now. Real life had been changed forever by that moment, at least for me, because Kori had let me in. She’d trusted me, and I didn’t have to be told how rarely anyone saw past her shields to the woman beneath.

But with her trust came an obligation to prove myself worthy. If I let her down—if I betrayed her trust just once—I would lose her forever.

When I couldn’t figure out how best to acknowledge what had passed between us without scaring her off, she finally gave me a tiny smile, then brushed past me to grab her phone from across the aisle. “You know, it’s a minor miracle that we’re not being drawn and quartered by Jake at this very moment,” she whispered, shoving her phone into her pocket.

“That’s a rather antiquated form of punishment,” I said, handing her the bottle I’d picked out for Tower. “Please tell me you don’t mean it literally.”

“I’ve never actually seen anyone ripped limb from limb, no, but Jake’s certainly pulled people apart figuratively, and that’s bad enough.”

“No argument from me…” I pulled another bottle of Cabernet from the rack to my right, then headed deeper into the cellar in search of something lighter and fruitier.

“Ian, we’re not shopping, we’re escaping. Let’s go.”

“One minute…”

“Thirty seconds,” she conceded, following me past the blushes and into the whites. “Then I’m leaving you here.” But she wouldn’t, and we both knew it.

I pulled a bottle of pinot grigio from the nearest rack, crossing my fingers, since I was unfamiliar with the label, then I let her pull me into the shadows. A moment later, we emerged in the unlit bathroom of the hotel suite.

Kori followed me into the living room, where I set all three bottles on the occasional table against one wall. “I believe you still owe me lunch,” I said, pulling open the minifridge. At which point I realized I was too hungry for snack food. “But I’m guessing going back to the park would be a bad idea.”

“I think leaving the west side at all would be bad, with Cam and Liv after you. But if your stomach’s set on nitrates, there’s a decent street vendor a couple of blocks over.”

“Or, we could order in.” I held up the room service menu. “There’s a vegetarian section, if you think your sister might like to join us.”

Kori frowned. “Okay, I get that you want to get to know the person who’s about to bind you to Jake Tower. But if I invite Kenley over, her bodyguard of the day will come, too, and I really don’t want to spend the next hour with someone who’ll report everything we do or say directly to Jake.”

“Okay. No problem. What do you want from room service?”

“A burger. A big one.”

Kori ducked into the bathroom and I placed an order, then texted Aaron for an update on Steven and Meghan. I’d just hit Send when I heard the bathroom door open, and when the message went through, I deleted it from my phone, just in case. I wanted to tell Kori the truth. I would tell her. But I couldn’t, while the chain links on her arm were still live marks. And to fix that, I needed to talk to Kenley. Alone.