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didn’t let the media affect his life, but they’d just interrupted a very private moment. One he was enjoying immensely. He kicked at the concrete path, accepted the apologies of the doorman, then strode back inside to find Macy.
    She stood in the alcove, her arms hugging her waist, her face a shade paler than before. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around her, attempting to take away the aftertaste of the shock. She must be more used to being photographed than him, but since he hadn’t seen recent photos of her in the papers, it’d probably been a while for her. And they’d both been so carried away by that kiss, she was probably still reeling from its abrupt ending.
    â€œI’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair.
    She stood motionless in his embrace, arms still around her own waist, a world away from him. “I think it was good timing,” she said unsteadily.
    â€œWhat do you mean?” He held her a little tighter, suspecting where she was going.
    Disengaging herself from his arms, she stepped back. Her shoulders were square, ready to face whatever came, but her eyes were haunted. Ryder clenched his fists to stop from reaching for her again.
    She took a deep breath and let it out in measured evenness. “I won’t have an affair with my boss. I’ve spent too much time building my professional reputation to see it destroyed over a fling.”
    â€œWhat makes you think I’m only interested in a fling?”
    Her eyes held a world of pain and cynicism. “Experience.”
    She’d been hurt. Thinking of her being hurt, betrayed, made him want to reach for her all the more, to offer words of comfort, but he knew she wouldn’t want sympathy so he bit them back and waited.
    She glanced at the spot where the intruder had been, then back to him. “I’m sorry, I never should have agreed to this date.” She pulled herself up to her full height, spine stiff. “Thank you for the drink, but you have to realize we can’t repeat it.”
    He frowned. This was clearly going to be a problem he’d need to overcome before he could convince her to marry him. Or, more pressingly, to kiss him again.
    He needed to tread gently. Lifting her chin with a knuckle, he said, “Macy, don’t let a parasite of a photographer ruin our night. We were enjoying ourselves until that flash went off.”
    Her eyes softened for a moment and he thought she was with him, but then her shutters came down.
    â€œI—I have to go.” She whirled and walked a little too fast toward the elevator. Jaw clenched, he watched herleave, telling himself not to follow, not to come on too strong and ruin this. No matter how much he wanted to go after her, comfort her, his whole future depended on not scaring her away.
    When the elevator pinged and she disappeared behind mirrored doors, he was left alone. The empty feeling that over took him was strangely hard to swallow for a man who prided himself on being a loner. He just didn’t want to leave this blasted foyer where they’d kissed only moments ago.
    Don’t be sentimental and stupid. Ryder turned and strode outside to find another cab.
    Their wedding couldn’t come soon enough.

Three
    M acy stepped into the hall, letting the door to her serviced apartment click shut behind her. The night had been long and sleepless with images of Ryder replaying in her mind. His face so close as his mouth descended to hers…his short hair spiked between her fingers…his breath warming her cheeks…
    Sensations from that kiss had tormented her body until the sheets had become a twisted mess and she’d had to trade any hopes of sleep for early morning coffee.
    She pressed the elevator button and tapped the toe of her three-inch heels until the doors swished open. Facing him this morning would be difficult, knowing how she’d acted last night.
    She’d kissed her boss.
    Would he take her