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“This isgreat,” she said, telling herself she would enjoy this evening and tomorrowwould sort through a few unsettling recognitions that she just couldn’t shake.

She leaned herhead against Ander’s shoulder and took another sip of her wine. She saw thehost talking to a waitress. They were obviously preparing a table for them.When the host glanced over toward Ander and Lori, he smiled with an unexpectedfondness in his gaze.

He lookedalmost like a proud papa, and Lori vaguely wondered what had prompted the look.

She slanted hereyes up to Ander and surprised another unsettling expression on his face. Hegazed down at her with soft eyes, and for a moment she lost her breath.

Then sheremembered the way he’d looked at Sarah Jacoby. The way he probably looked atall of his clients.

That was hisjob. Make them feel special. Act like a besotted, romantic escort.

She ducked herhead abruptly and told herself not to picture him with anyone else. But shekept seeing Ander with Sarah. Flirting with her. Seducing her. Kissing her.Having sex with her. Fucking her with pulsing intensity and hot, hungry eyes.

Exactly like hedid with Lori.

“What’s thematter?” Ander asked, tilting her head up so he could scan her face.

She shook herhead and let out a breath of rueful laughter, since the only other choice wasto cry.

“Lori?” heprompted, leaning his head down and frowning. She couldn’t tell if he wasconcerned or annoyed, and she wasn’t sure which she’d prefer.

Lori took aslow sip of wine and tried to hide her face with the rim of the glass. Then shesmiled at him, just a little shaky. “Looks like they’ve got our table ready.”

To Lori’srelief, they did. The host hurried back, gestured them over to a cozy table in thefar corner of the restaurant, and took their drinks to carry over himself.

Ander put hishand on the small of Lori’s back as they walked, and the gesture feltsupportive and protective.

She liked it.Way too much.

They werehalfway through the restaurant when she felt Ander stiffen dramatically besideher. He didn’t really move, didn’t make a sound. But she felt it—as sure as ifshe’d tensed up herself.

Looking over athim quickly, she felt her heart drop when she saw a frozen expression on hisface. His features were stoic. Completely blank. And so immovable theyterrified her.

She followedhis fixed gaze over to the other side of the restaurant, where a couple wasseated over half-finished pasta and a nearly empty bottle of wine. The womanwas beautiful—slender, elegant, red-haired, and probably in her mid-thirties.

The man wasmuch older, with long limbs and a contained appearance that spoke of a lifetimeof power and strategy. He had a craggy face that was oddly mesmerizing. And adistinctive mane of thick, longish, graying hair.

Lori knew whoit was, and she knew why Ander had become a stony statue beside her.

Peter Milton’sknowing eyes scanned the restaurant casually. He couldn’t have failed to seehis son standing half a room away. From his vantage point, he may have evenseen Ander and Lori as soon as they’d entered. Certainly when they’d beenstanding in intimate proximity and waiting for their table.

But Peter’seyes passed over Ander, as if his son didn’t exist in the world.

Lori gaspedfrom a sharp wrench of pain at the obvious slight. Ander hadn’t moved, and hiscomplete lack of reaction was perhaps the scariest thing of all.

She grabbed hisarm, pressing up against his side with a protective instinct she couldn’tpossibly control. As she moved, Ander’s hand dropped from the small of her backto hang limply at his side.

“Let’s gosomewhere else,” Lori said, trying to keep her voice natural and utterlyfailing. “I’m not sure I feel like Italian after all.”

It was animplausible excuse, but it was all that she could think of. And she couldn’thelp thinking the most important thing in the universe was getting Ander out ofthis restaurant.

Ander’s eyesturned to stare at her blankly, but she was sure he couldn’t really see her.“What do you mean?” He was better than she was at composing his voice, but hiseyes were so empty they broke her heart.

Lori shot anervous glance back over to Peter, who was looking once more at his companionbut smiling smugly in a way that she knew was meant for Ander.

“Let’s gosomewhere else,” she said again, her voice gentle and her hands clinging to Ander’ssides as if she could somehow hold him together.

Ander swallowedand his face cleared, all of the leashed angst falling smoothly behind thepolished surface she now knew he used to hide himself from the world. “I don’twant to go somewhere else. We’re going to eat here.”

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