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managed to stay upright as I dried off, stopping at the sink to brush my teeth with a wrapped, hotel-issued toothbrush. Lifting my head, I stared a long moment at my reflection. Other than the bloodshot eyes, I still looked like me. I was still Ava Cassidy.
    But I was no longer Gabby Rover. No longer America’s sweetheart.
    Anytime now, the paparazzi would find out where I was staying, and I’d be swarmed as soon as I left the hotel. Hell, for all I knew, they were already there, just waiting. Lying in wait.
    And what would I be leaving to find? I couldn’t go back home. Ken would be there. I couldn’t go to work. I had no job. My only option was to go back to L.A., hole up in a hotel, and begin the impossible task of saving my reputation and my career. I’d need a new manager, a PR overhaul…. It was exhausting just to think about.
    I heard the rattle of a room service cart being wheeled out of the room, and the muffled voices of the bellhop and... Mr. Campbell.
    “Not my only option,” I said softly, pulling on one of the hotel robes.
    He was….
    I didn’t know what he was, not yet. We were married, possibly. He was... handsome. Sexy. He seemed sweet. Funny but cocky. Clearly used to getting his way.
    And he offered me a retreat. A place to get away for a while.
    A place to just be Ava.
    I took a slow, deep breath, tightened the belt of the robe around my waist, and stepped out to greet my new husband.

6
    Bennett
    J ust as I finished calling Ava to breakfast, she slipped out of the bathroom, robe cinched around her waist, looking sweet and fresh and young. I almost caved right then. I almost came clean. She just had one of those faces that made you want to tell the truth. I guess that was what made her America’s Sweetheart. Or was it my aching cock that made me want to bare it all?
    I fought the urge by turning to the array of food and picking up one of the sandwiches. Holding it out to her, I felt my practiced smirk slinking onto my lips without thought. “Hungry?” I asked, unable to stop myself flirting. No matter how fresh she looked.
    She snatched the sandwich from me and began eating with a vigor I hadn’t seen since college, and never in a woman. She must be feeling better.
    “I guess so,” I teased, picking up a fresh strawberry and popping it in my mouth. I was much more interested in watching her than in eating just now. Everything about her fascinated me. The way she chewed, the way she sat. The way she devoured the food like she hadn't eaten in days.
    “Sorry,” she mumbled, her mouth overfull. One slim hand came up to cover her lips as she continued to chew, then swallowed hard. “Thanks. I guess I really was.”
    “Don’t apologize,” I told her. “You had a long night.” I meant the drinking, but the flush that came to her cheeks made it clear she thought I meant something else. She’d had a long night in that sense, too, but then we both had.
    “I... guess I did,” she agreed, setting down the sandwich to down a good, long gulp of orange juice. “Sorry, I still don’t remember….” I could tell that she felt badly about it.
    I remembered everything. Vividly. A fact that my dick was intent on reminding me of as her robe peeked open a bit, exposing just the slightest hint of the curve of her breast. I turned again, focusing on pouring myself some coffee and thinking about the least sexy thing I could think of. “Don’t apologize for that either. I’ve had time to soothe my ego.”
    “Well, thank heaven for that,” she said, and a hint of a smirk slipped onto her lips. It was the first trace of the girl I’d met the night before that I’d seen this morning, and it was... hopeful, I guess. It made me feel weirdly happy in a way that had nothing to do with my memory of her hands on my skin.
    Sooner than I would have thought possible, Ava had finished her sandwich and was licking her fingers clean in a way that was both unassuming and sweet.
    “That’s not the only surprise