Chapter One
The day I meet Isaiah Martin for the second time, I am running late. I pride myself on
my punctuality, not to mention that my clients demand it, and Iโm not paying attention
to my surroundings.
I look at my watch again. Five minutes after. Shit. I scurry through the hotel lobby,
making a beeline to the elevators. If luck happens to be on my side, I wonโt have to
wait, but the elevators in the largest hotel in Las Vegas are notoriously slow.
Will the stairs be quicker? I glance over my shoulder. The stairwell is located on the
other side of the large open atrium. With my clientโs room on the thirtieth floor, the
elevator is faster, even if I have to wait. I turn back to the elevators.
And run right into a man standing in my path, overcorrect, and twist my ankle.
โExcuse me, maโam,โ he says in a soft, cultured Southern accent, reaching out a hand to
steady me. โYou okay?โ
โDamn it!โ My ankle throbs so much Iโm not sure I can walk. I gingerly put my weight on
the hurt ankle and curse again at the pain.
Suck it up, Athena. This is nothing. Think about whatโll happen if you donโt make it
upstairs in the next few minutes.
โMaโam?โ Mr. Southern Gentleman repeats.
โIโm fine.โ I tentatively move my foot side to side. โJust give me a minute.โ
โWhy donโt you come sit down and let me take a look at that ankle?โ
โYou a doctor?โ Odds are Odds are heโs just your standard pervert wanting the chance to
run his hand up my leg. Even if he is a doctor, Iโm not about to let him put his hands
on me. Not a wise thing to do, since itโs almost a certainty Mike will find out.
โNo, maโam,โ he says. โBut I think you may need to rest that ankle just a bit.โ
โReally, Iโm fine.โ I put my full weight on the ankle and nearly fall over as the pain
sparks up my leg. โOw. Ow. Ow.Hell.โ
He doesnโt speak again, but takes me by the arm and leads me to a bench near the
elevators. His head drops down and he runs a finger along my anklebone. Pokes and prods
me. โI donโt think anythingโs broken, but you should probably stay off your feet for
the next little bit.โ
โEasy for you to say,โ I snap. โYouโre obviously not the one running late.โ
He looks up and our eyes meet.
Warm caramel eyes. His thick, black hair is long overdue for a haircut and curls up the
tiniest bit at his neck. His firm lips give way to a perfect โOโ of surprise at the
exact moment I recognize him.
โAthena?โ
โIsaiah?โ
He embraces me with a crushing hug. โImagine seeing you here. How are you?โ
My spine goes rigid, and I donโt return the hug. โIโm....Iโm fine,โ I stutter while my
eyes dart around the lobby, trying to see if anyoneโs watching me.
โI canโt believe itโs you.โ He is oblivious to my discomfort. โAre you in town for
long?โ
I force myself to stop scanning the area and focus on Isaiah instead. A cold chill runs
down my spine as I take in his handsome features. The last twelve years have treated him
well. No longer is he the awkward teenage boy plagued by acne and thick glasses. Heโs
grown into the handsome man I always knew lay beneath the surface.
He looks at me in expectation. What did he ask?
I fiddle with the hem of my skirt. It rests just above the knee. โI live here.โ