The man hesitates. “Uh, 1502?”
 
 “Name?” When the guy goes white, I lean in. “Give me what I need, and you’ll walk out of here alive.”
 
 Swallowing harshly, he says, “Mirz.”
 
 “Thanks,” I say with a nod. “Appreciate it. Enjoy your evening.”
 
 I pull out my phone and dial the front desk from a blocked number.
 
 “Thank you for calling The Sterling. Good evening, this is Ainsley,” the receptionist chirps.
 
 “Hello,” I use an American accent, pitching my voice to sound just agitated enough, “Name’s Mirz. I’m in room 1502. My wife was just touched inappropriately in your lobby at the exhibit. The guy’s still down there talking to a blonde in a denim dress. Get him off the premises, or I’ll call the cops. You don’t want that kind of bad publicity.”
 
 “Sir, are you sure?”
 
 “I paid four grand for a suite here. I didn’t pay for my wife to get fucking groped.”
 
 “I’ll alert security immediately, sir. Thank you for thereport.” Ainsley hangs up.
 
 I end the call and head back toward the exhibit, giggling, dying to see this guy dragged out of here by his fancy shoes.
 
 Raina is still talking to this poor bastard who may end up sleeping at Riker’s Island tonight.
 
 As I stride toward my woman, I clock my sister rushing toward the exhibit, looking stressed with a handheld radio in her fist.
 
 They called the fuckingheadof security? Not one of the linebacker-sized dudes she hired?
 
 Now I’m a touch worried about the dosser. And when I get closer, I get a better look at who’s been flirting with Raina.
 
 Oh, fuck my life.
 
 “Tristan?” Sabine calls out to her brother-in-law.
 
 Hermarriedbrother-in-law, who is part owner of the hotel.
 
 He turns around at the sound of my sister’s troubled voice. “What’s wrong, Sabine?”
 
 Sabine looks Raina up and down, matching the description of the woman I described as practically being pinned to one of these photographs by a creep.
 
 “We got a strange call.” Sabine leans in and whispers into Tristan’s ear.
 
 Tristan’s face flushes. “That’s ridiculous.”
 
 “Miss, are you all right?” Sabine asks Raina with an anxious expression.
 
 Raina blinks, and her smile melts into a frown. “Yes. I’m fine. Why?”
 
 I head that way, the marble underfoot doesn’t make a sound, but the force of my arrival does. Sabine turns her head as I stride headstrong into the mix. I need to cool off before I do something that will make her disown me.
 
 My sister risked everything to be with Grayson. Shelives in their world, not ours. Their family welcomed her. If I rearranged Tristan’s pretty face, I would have gotten the beating of my life from Sabine in my tunnel.
 
 Tristan’s shoulders stiffen, and Raina goes rigid. She can sense that shift in the air, that heat of knowing she was being watched.
 
 Her eyes tunnel into my skin with a flicker of recognition. Color rises in her cheeks, and it hits me like a bullet to the chest. Grinning, I turn my gaze to Tristan.
 
 “Don’t you have a wife to flirt with, Hart?” My voice slices through the space like a blade.
 
 Sharp. Unforgiving.