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exhaled. Natalia wasn't wrong. Exhaustion seeped into every part of Chey's being, making her eyelids grainy. Rubbing one with a knuckle, she refocused on Sander.
    “Baby, you need to wake up. Everyone's been here to see you, they're pulling for you. Even Natalia. Can you hear me? Sander? Please wake up.” Tracing light patterns over his knuckles, she watched for signs of recognition, for awareness. Once again, she received no response.
    A half hour later, with nothing but sound of machines for company, Chey fell asleep.

Chapter Five
    The following morning, just about to walk around a corner on the main floor, Wynn paused to take stock of her person. The navy pencil skirt and matching jacket was much more demure and understated than she was used to wearing. She had several outfits of this nature, however, from working in her father's law firm, and was glad to have them in her wardrobe.
    Running her hand over the small cloth covered buttons down the front of the jacket, she thought she appeared professional enough for her first day on the job. A pair of taupe heels didn't add more than two inches to her modest height, chosen for comfort over style thanks to all the walking she expected to do. Even her make up was toned down, consisting of tonal browns and a peach colored lipstick.
    The sound of approaching footsteps in the adjacent hallway halted Wynn's hand on the bottom button. Just when she thought she would come face to face with the murmuring trio of men, they stopped out of sight around the corner. Her language lessons over the summer with Chey allowed her to understand the gist of their conversation.
    “I'm telling you, the rest have no idea what's going on,” a masculine voice said.
    “They should be warned in advance,” another added.
    “Are you willing to risk it?” a hissing whisper asked.
    “We don't know what all he's done, who he's compromised. Besides that, there's no time.”
    Immersed in the hush of voices, Wynn never heard the quiet tread of footfalls until someone set a hand low on her back and propelled her five steps forward, taking her around the corner before she had time to think. Several things hit her senses at once: the scent of spicy cologne, a crisp rustle of an expensive suit, and the surprise of three councilmen who stood huddled together.
    “Gentlemen, I'll see you in the conference room in five minutes,” Paavo said, steering Wynn around the group.
    Plastering a fake smile on her mouth, Wynn made a frantic attempt to appear normal, as if she hadn't heard a thing anyone said. She inclined her head, reading confusion and bemusement in the eyes of the councilmen.
    “Yes, your High--”
    “Of course, your Majesty.” They spoke at the same time, stumbling over titles.
    Wynn followed Paavo's lead. He never so much as slowed down until they reached a vacant, smaller meeting room. On a round table, she caught a glimpse of a laptop and several folders stacked neatly to the side. A printer and several other pieces of office equipment sat at the ready against the wall on a separate desk.
    Paavo faced her, standing close. He met her eyes and said, “Your first order of business is to transcribe an announcement to be printed in the newspapers. You'll find my voice file on the desktop. Can you handle it?”
    “Yes, of course I can handle it.” Wynn composed herself, recovering from the shock of being discovered listening to the councilmen talk. Paavo probably thought she'd done it on purpose when the opposite was true. Too late to defend herself now, she nodded to confirm she could do the task set before her. She refused to notice how immaculate his suit fit or how the diagonally striped tie was the same color green as his eyes. He smiled a devastatingly handsome smile.
    “Excellent. If you have any questions, I'll be available after the meeting and the press conference scheduled shortly thereafter,” he said.
    “Press conference? Shouldn't I be there with you?” she asked. Wynn wanted to