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match—Javier Bordeaux. He couldn't say that he'd abdicated his position since he was always the guy from the wrong side of the tracks: a trust fund child and one generation from clipping coupons. Although his mother still collected coupons and haggled over a price.
    As he wandered through the lobby to find the concession stand with the shortest line, he saw a few early departures heading for the outdoors. Why would anyone leave a show midway? The production and show were top notch.
    A few more patrons left. Damien looked around to guess who would be the next departure. But with the idea of escape teasing him as an option, he left the concessions area and slowly walked toward the nearest door. Just before he reached for the door handle, he looked over his shoulder. After one last look up at the balcony where he'd sat with Anna, he exited into the balmy evening.
    He took a deep breath. It felt good to be outdoors.
    Not all good, though. Guilt had a knack for readily popping in to fill him with reservation that he couldn't walk out on Anna.
    But he hadn't thought about doing so until he saw the romantic couples huddled together laughing and talking, with an occasional peck on the lips as they headed to parts unknown. More than a touch of envy of these couples on dates motivated his early fugitive run.
    Anna had no idea what she'd opened in his heart with this invitation to spend a few hours with her. The problem loomed that he wanted much more than a few hours in her company. If he left now, he'd deprive himself of what little time he would have had with her.
    Damien heaved a sigh and returned to the building. Skipping any refreshment, he headed back to the box. It was empty. He looked over to where the Sables were and saw Anna engaged in a lighthearted conversation—all smiles and animated hand gestures.
    Those easy, silly moments were no longer a thing between them. Once upon a time, he'd made her laugh. His teeth clenched because he'd also made her cry.
    "Hi, you're back." Anna cheery voice was a welcomed interruption to dispel the creep of his dreary thoughts.
    "I didn't run."
    "I'm impressed. I was arranging a ride with the Sables ... just in case." Her mouth quirked into a teasing grin.
    "Well, nope, they can't have you. I'll be the one to take you to your hotel."
    "Good. I'm glad to hear that." She flashed a smile that melted him into a puddle.
    Once the dimming lights signaled the resumption of the play, Damien was ready for the culmination of events on the stage. He'd rather focus on the next hour than deal with the gut-tingling warmth because he noticed every movement, every sound, anything that Anna did.
    Somewhere during the conviction of the barber and his fiery end for doing business with a witch, Damien's fingers had intertwined with Anna's.
    Not until the curtains lowered did he reluctantly release her hand to clap and shout his encore, along with the crowd. He'd survived the opera. Sharing in the rousing celebration with Anna at his side cast him adrift on this strange ride.
    A rare deep-down current of happiness zigzagged its path through his entire body. After one hell of a tumultuous day, he didn't want this—whatever this was—to end.
    "So what did you think?" Anna asked as they joined the throng of people slowly exiting the building.
    "I enjoyed it."
    "You sound surprised." She linked her arm through his.
    "Maybe I am, but I did keep an open mind throughout the entire thing."
    Their walk was slow and halting as all the exits converged into a big pool at either side of the grand rococo marble staircases. Any real conversation was on hold until they got back into his car and cruised their way down the avenue.
    "So your place or mine? I'm famished and we really haven't had a chance to fill in a few important gaps." Damien stared ahead to stop from second guessing how she'd react. Tonight was already full of risks. Why stop now?
    "I wouldn't want to stand in your way of filling your appetite with food ...