Twelve

Aaron DeMarque stopped dead in his tracks. He hadn’t expected Sienna Williams to be awake, much less that she would catch into him sneaking into her room, which by the way, took him forever to find. Since he’d been caught, he thought, he might as well get over what brought him here in the first place.

He straightened up, fixed his tie and walked toward Sienna who was still giving him her back. “I needed to talk to you,” he answered sheepishly.

Sienna turned on her heels, an amused look plastered on her face, though Aaron couldn’t see it. “I have an assistant for that. Should have had your wife scheduled an appointment with my assistant,” Sienna replied, unfolding her arms and walking toward the corner of her room where a bar of the finest wine and whiskey was placed.

Aaron didn’t reply, but Sienna could feel him take steps behind her. Her heart began staggering in her chest the closer he got to her. Her hands shivered as she grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the bar and filled it up