KATHARINE THE MORNING WAS TENSE FOR me—even Richard felt it. He had little in the way of personal items in the office, but I helped him pack up some awards, books, and a couple shirts he kept on hand for emergencies. I shook my head as I folded one, trailing my finger over the sleeve. All his shirts were custom made, and his initials RVR embroidered into the cuffs; a decadent touch only he could carry off. His items only filled two file boxes. His office was as impersonal as his condo. Glancing around, I realized it didn’t look any different. No one would notice, unless someone was looking.A small piece of sculpture caught my eye and I stretched up, grabbing it off the shelf. “Did you want to take this, Richard?”He focused his gaze on the sculpture, but before he could reply, his office door flung open and David strode in. He stopped dead, looking at us. Richard was leaning against his desk, his resignation letter in hand, me standing, holding the sculpture beside an open box. David

KATHARINE I HAD TROUBLE SLEEPING AGAIN, so I tiptoed down the hall, pushing open Richard’s door. Tonight, he was on his stomach, one arm wrapped around his pillow, the other one hanging off the edge of his massive bed. He was still snoring—his low, raspy hum I needed to hear.I studied his face in the dim light. I traced my lips with my finger, stillshocked at the fact he had kissed me, held me in his arms, and we danced. I knew it was all part of his grand scheme, but there were moments, glimpses, of a different man than I was used to seeing. The flash of a smile, a twinkle in his eye, even a kind word—they had all caught me off-guard tonight. I wished he allowed that part of himself out more, but he kept his emotions—the positive ones—locked away. I had already figured that out. I knew if I said anything, he would lock himself down even more. So, I remained silent—at least for now. I had to admit though, kissing him hadn’t been bad at all. Considering the venom his mouth could prod

RICHARD SHE WAS SPEECHLESS. HER LIPS moved, yet no words came out. Then she did the strangest thing.She laughed. Huge, loud peals of laughter. She clapped her hand over hermouth, but it didn’t do anything to stem the flow of chortles. Tears ran down her cheeks, and still she laughed.It was a sound I’d never heard from her, and while I had to admit, her laughter was highly infectious—I wasn’t amused at why she was laughing.I leaned back, crossing my arms. “I don’t find this a laughing matter, Miss Elliott.”I thought hearing me refer to her formally would snap her out of her hysteria because that was what it had to be. The only effect it seemed to have on her, though, was she laughed harder.I slammed my hand on the granite. “Katharine!”She slumped against the counter, wiping her eyes. She glanced over at me, and it started all over. More gales of laughter.I shoved off the chair and strode toward her, not certain what I would do when I got there. Shake her? Slap her? I grabbed he

RICHARD I WOKE UP, CONFUSED. AFTER a moment, I realized I was on the sofa. I sat up, grimacing, holding my aching head. I deserved it, but it still sucked. Cautiously, I raised my eyes, surprised to see a bottle of water and Tylenol on the table in front of me. Reaching for it, I swallowed two pills and drained the bottle. As I stood up, the blanket draped across my torso fell to the floor. I bent to pick it up, when realization dawned in my sluggish brain.After Katharine had stormed away, I had tossed back more scotch, her words on a constant loop in my head. At some point, I must have passed out, and she had obviously come and covered me up, leaving the drugs and water, knowing I’d be suffering when I awoke.Despite being even a bigger prick to her than usual, she still looked after me. My legs were shaking as I sat down, recalling the words she had flung at me last night—why she had agreed to help me. Why she scrimped and saved—to look after a woman who took her in and gave her a

RICHARD I WAS SITTING AT THE counter, nursing my third cup of coffee when she came downstairs Sunday morning. She fixed herself a mug—I still hadn’t attempted to use the coffee maker that had appeared one day last week, so she had to make do. I could sense her stolen glances as she waited for the Keurig to perform its magic.“What?” I sighed. “I fell asleep.”“You were exhausted.”“I woke up in my bed. With my dress off.”I arched my eyebrow at her. “It is customary for a husband to carry his wife over the threshold and remove her wedding dress the night they are married, I believe.”Deep crimson flashed across the top of her cheeks, highlighting the delicate bones.I grinned and shook my head. “You helped me, Katharine. You fell back asleep; I covered you up and left the room. I thought you might be uncomfortable otherwise.”“Oh.”She sat beside me, and sipped her coffee before noticing the wrapped package on the counter. “What is that?”I pushed the box toward her. “A present.”“For