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air.
    “Well you’ve given me much to think about,” Roger said. He turned to Prim, a sly smile on his face. “I think we may have a deal.”
    “Oh, brilliant!” Prim said. A smile burst over her face.
    Roger used his announcement as an excuse to close in on Prim. He grasped her in a hug, pressed his body to hers, and gave her a quick kiss on the lips.
    Prim pulled back. Shock entered her eyes, but she quickly recovered.
    “Don’t forget, Prim,” Roger said. “My offer always stands, both for the job and the visit to my private island.”
    Heat flamed through Tristan. What a boob. Who did that? And to a businesswoman? But perhaps …
    Tristan’s gaze flickered between Prim and Roger. Had they been lovers? Had she slept with him too? Perhaps Prim had once found Macon attractive?
    Tristan reached out and his hand gripped Roger’s hand. He squeezed just a bit too tight, and in Tristan’s eyes was the warning that this man should never ever touch Prim Baxter again.
    “Thank you for dinner, Tristan, I’ll have my business-affairs team contact yours.”
    “Excellent,” Tristan said, his smile fixed to his face.
    So adept was Tristan at business that Roger couldn’t tell Tristan wanted to squeeze Roger’s neck until the man’s head exploded. Roger got into the back of his car and his driver pulled away from the curb.
    The valet appeared with Tristan’s car. Tristan would drop Prim at home and then leave. He pulled out onto Wilshire and headed west to Santa Monica. He couldn’t shake the thoughts that rattled about his skull. Thoughts of Prim and Macon, together, intimate. Anger flashed in his chest.
    “You and Roger were involved?” Tristan realized the inappropriateness of his question the second the words slipped from his lips. And yet … there was this compulsion, this need to know whether Roger’s hands had also caressed Prim’s bare skin.
    “What?” Prim’s gaze whipped from the passenger window toward Tristan. “Why would you ask such a question?”
    Tristan knew better than to continue, and yet even with Prim’s hard glare that told him to take his question and stuff it, Tristan couldn’t stop. He was obsessed with a need to know, a deep gnawing that he’d never experienced with regards to the personal history of a woman. He needed to banish the visions of Prim and Roger that his mind had created.
    “He paws you like you two have been together. Plus the comment about the island. Some women do like men with big bank accounts.”
    “Stop the car,” Prim said.
    “Excuse me?”
    “Stop the car.”
    “What? Why?” Tristan pulled to a stop at a red light. “Why would I—”
    Before he uttered another word, Prim jumped from his Tesla and scrambled across the street. The light turned green and the cacophony of honking horns forced Tristan to pull forward. He turned right at the next light and circled back to where he’d last seen Prim. But when he pulled down Rodeo Drive, Prim was gone.

 
Chapter Six
     
    What a complete ass.
    Prim rushed across Rodeo. She stopped in front of Mastro’s, opened the app on her phone, and requested an Uber pickup. Within minutes the town car arrived. She slid into the backseat and rested her head against the cool leather. Gone was her hope that she and Tristan could ignore what had happened between them at Mesquale and behave professionally. Tristan’s eyes had been on her the entire night. He’d watched every one of Roger’s obvious and unwelcome advances. During the six months of negotiations, Prim had grown used to ignoring Roger’s hints about his attraction to her and his desires for her. She always brushed them off until this evening. The weight of Tristan’s judgment as Roger made offhand and borderline crude remarks had nearly been too much to bear.
    The muscle in Tristan’s jaw had flinched each time Roger pawed Prim’s hand or leered at her. Roger had acted as though Prim, as opposed to the cut of meat on his plate, was meant to be his