FAZER LOGINTAMSIN I stood there with Poppy beside me, watching Leo walk toward us with that steady, deliberate stride that suggested he had every right to be here even though I had not invited him. Poppy rolled her eyes so dramatically I was surprised they did not get stuck, then turned and walked away without a word, leaving me alone to face whatever Leo had come to say. He stopped directly in front of me, close enough that I had to tilt my head back slightly to maintain eye contact. Before I could ask what he wanted or tell him to leave or do anything except stand there like someone who had temporarily forgotten how to form words, he pulled me into his arms. I went rigid for half a second, my mind scrambling to come up with an appropriate response to being embraced without warning in Poppy's driveway. Then I closed my eyes. His smell was intoxicating. Something woodsy and expensive and entirely too familiar, and I could not lie to myself about the fact that being this close to him made
ISLA I stood near the corner of the mall corridor with the brim of my cap pulled low over my eyes, pretending to study a jewelry display while quietly watching the scene unfold across the polished floor. James Whitmore, heir to one of the most powerful families in the city, was kneeling in front of Tamsin. For a moment I wondered if my eyes were deceiving me. James had always been proud to the point of arrogance, and I could not remember a single instance in which he had bowed to anyone in his life. Yet there he was, on his knees in the middle of a shopping mall like some kind of medieval supplicant begging for mercy from his queen. My fingers curled slowly into fists, nails digging into my palms hard enough to leave marks. It was humiliating. Infuriating. And most of all, utterly unacceptable. Tamsin simply stood there, looking down at him with a cold expression that did nothing to soften the blow to his dignity. Watching them together stirred something bitter inside
TAMSIN I opened my eyes. The reporters were still there, cameras still flashing, voices still shouting questions that blurred together into meaningless noise. But something had changed. James was covering his face with one hand, his shoulders hunched, and for the first time since he had dropped to his knees, he looked genuinely uncomfortable. I frowned. If he was embarrassed by the reporters, then who had invited them? They could not have ambushed us on their own. Someone had tipped them off. Someone had known we would be here. James suddenly shot to his feet and turned on the reporters with a fury I had not seen from him in years. "Get out!" His voice came out as a roar. "All of you. Leave now or there will be consequences." The reporters did not move. If anything, they pressed closer, their cameras clicking faster, their microphones thrust forward like weapons. James's assistant appeared from somewhere in the crowd, pushing his way through the mass of bodies wit
TAMSIN The hospital waiting room smelled like antiseptic. I paced back and forth in front of the row of plastic chairs, unable to sit still, my hands clenched into fists at my sides as I tried to control the nervous energy coursing through me. Poppy sat in one of the chairs, watching me with a mixture of concern and sympathy. "You are going to wear a hole in the floor," she said gently. "I cannot help it." I turned and paced in the other direction. "What if it is really her? What if after all these years..." I could not finish the sentence. Could not let myself hope too much in case it all fell apart. The investigator had sent me a photo while we drove to the hospital. A young woman with dark hair and eyes that looked so much like mine it had made my breath catch. But I had been here before. Had gotten my hopes up only to have them crushed when the DNA test came back negative. This was the fourth potential match in fourteen months. "Where is she?" I asked for the t
TAMSIN Finn shot to his feet with a strangled yell, hot liquid dripping down his face and onto his shirt, his hands coming up too late to shield himself. "What is wrong with you?" he shouted. "Mrs. Whitmore, have you lost your mind?" "Everyone!" I raised my voice loud enough to carry through the thin walls. "Come in here and see the best graduating lawyer from his class! Nothing but a fraud and a liar!" Doors opened. Footsteps hurried down the hall. Within seconds, half a dozen attorneys had crowded into the doorway, staring at the scene with wide eyes. Finn grabbed tissues from his desk, trying frantically to wipe the coffee from his face. "You are insane. I could sue you for assault." "Please do," I said pleasantly. "I would love to see you try to explain in court why you took five million dollars from my husband to pretend to represent me while actually working for him the entire time." The other lawyers murmured among themselves. Finn's face went pale beneath the
TAMSIN His mouth found mine in the darkness, warm and insistent and so achingly familiar that I felt something in my chest give way. I could not see his face clearly. Could only feel the weight of him, solid and real, his hands sliding into my hair with a tenderness that made my breath catch. "I have missed you," he whispered against my lips, and the sound of his voice sent heat spiraling through me. His mouth moved to my neck, slow and deliberate, each kiss making me forget why I was supposed to be angry with anyone about anything. His hands traced the curve of my waist, my ribs, higher, and when his fingers brushed the sensitive skin just beneath my collarbone, I heard myself make a sound I did not recognize. "Tell me to stop," he murmured, his voice rough in a way that suggested he hoped desperately that I would not. I could not speak. Could only arch into his touch as his mouth traveled lower, following the path his hands had traced moments before. He touched me as t







