*Rafe*

Ainslee did not come out of the gardens through the front entrance that night. Or any of the three nights after.

I slam my seal onto the papers in front of me with enough force to crack the handle. And the blotter. And the desktop, for that matter. I don’t care. Ainslee has avoided me most of the week. Her wedding is two days from now. We have things we should talk about.

Things that won’t make a damn bit of difference, but hell, I want to talk about them anyway!

To add to my foul mood, Kris saunters into my office without knocking. He came back a few...