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her shortened breaths betrayed her nerves.
    Truthfully, his silence wasn’t a test for her. He was buying time, figuring out how to react, searching for places to file away his thoughts and reactions. Elation. Devastation. Curiosity. It would be stupid to open old wounds. But a greater, unhealed part wanted to know why the hell she’d left. What had scared her so bad that she hadn’t been able to turn to him?
    “Kneel up.” His command was familiar. Her response was not.
    Her movements were sensual, graceful as she unfolded her body then used abdominal strength to lift herself from the floor.
    She positioned her knees wider than she’d ever been able to. With a gentle shrug, she pulled back her shoulders before linking her hands behind her head. As if she’d done it a thousand times, she shook her head. Her hair fell back from her face, and she met his gaze.
    There was no shock etched between her eyebrows. Instead, her green eyes were open wide with trust.
    She swallowed deeply and said nothing.
    For a minute, he forgot how to breathe. As big and strong a corporate strategist that he was—accustomed to negotiations so tense they made front page news—he had just had his brains scrambled by a woman a bit under five feet tall.
    She continued to look at him without blinking, seeming to offer Reece a glimpse of her soul.
    He scoffed at the ridiculous thought. The man who’d been fanciful enough to believe that kind of romantic crap no longer existed. And the woman in front of him was the reason why. “You knew I’d be at this party?”
    “Yes.”
    “Did you put Julien up to it? Or did he put you up to it?”
    “It’s my fault. I begged, cajoled, pleaded. Blame me.”
    “What the hell do you want, Sarah?”
    She faltered then, looking down at the ground before glancing back at him. But when she spoke, her words had a confidence that had been missing in the past. “To connect. Talk. Explain. Apologize.”
    Silence hung.
    Then after a quick breath, she rushed on. “To scene.”
    “Why?”
    “I’m hoping one night together will help me get over you.”
    He’d been expecting something else. Something more profound. As it was, he rocked back on his heels.
    “I need to convince myself that what we had wasn’t as good as I remember.”
    Reece searched her face, looking for…what? The truth? A hidden agenda? An answer to the dozens of unresolved questions?
    “I’m hoping you’ll indulge me with a beating, Sir.”
    Her courtesy was new, too. In all the time they’d been together, she’d called him Mr McRae at work and Reece at home. Even in a scene, she’d been unable to force herself to address him as Sir.
    It wasn’t until after she’d left that he had realized they hadn’t been as close to his image of the perfect union as he would have liked.
    “I’ve never found anyone like you, Sir.”
    “You’ve been looking?” The sense of betrayal that had simmered for years churned to a low boil. He now knew better than to stay near any woman who ignited that kind of emotion in him.
    “Not consciously. No.”
    “But?” he prompted.
    “I’ve compared everyone else to you. How could I not?” She hesitated, as if reluctant to say more. “I’ve never connected with anyone like I did with you. No one compares with you. I’m…frustrated, I guess.”
    “If nothing else, I owe you an explanation,” she said, her voice strong as well as melodious and mysterious. She took a deep breath. “And I need to apologize.”
    “Save your breath. I won’t accept it.” Not now.
    Sarah winced.
    He turned and strode toward the door instead of succumbing to temptation and sweeping her into his arms.
    “Sir?”
    He paused but didn’t look back at her.
    “I deserve your anger. Your hostility. But I was hoping for more than your indifference. You know that’s the thing I fear the most. The way you’re capable of cutting people off, emotionally and physically.”
    She was right about that.
    “I don’t give second