The sound of Landon’s office door clicking open was like a starter pistol. Panic, cold and sharp, shot through my veins, overriding the languid, post-orgasmic haze. I scrambled off the bed, my limbs slick and trembling. The evidence of my betrayal was everywhere—my torn nightgown on the floor, the damp, cooling mess on the sheets, the scent of Kael’s sweat and my own arousal thick in the air.

My heart hammered against my ribs as I snatched my robe from the floor, pulling it on and tying the sash with fumbling fingers. I heard Landon’s footsteps on the stairs, slow and even. He was going to the kitchen. I had...