Avery slowly slides her hand toward the door handle. The person near her gets closer, and the stench of whiskey becomes overwhelming. It's pitch dark in the room, but the person breathing on her face seems tall and masculine. She wonders what's worse—a random drunk man or the bodyguards in the hallway.

The man seems to step away, and Avery gratefully breathes the fresh air. A dim lamp clicks on in the corner of the room, illuminating Evan. She drops her purse and stares at him in surprise. His eyes are blurred, and his suit is wrinkled, but his face is just as proud and handsome as she remembers.

He rushes toward her and kisses her passionately. His lips are hot and firm against hers, and he forces her mouth open and brushes her tongue with his. She forgets the bloody scene in the stairs and the bodyguards in the hallway. She forgets her own name. She twists her fingers in his hair and pulls him closer to her.

He groans in response and grabs her breasts, caressing and pinching through the thin satin of her dress. She arches her back, and he fumbles for her skirt, pulling it up to her thigh. He drops to his knees, and his hot breath tickles the sensitive skin of her inner legs. He kisses his way up her thighs moving higher and higher until her legs tremble.

He kisses the front of her underwear, and she moans loudly. Slowly he stands up and presses her back into the door, grabbing her hands and pushing them above her head. His breathing is fast and frenzied, and his eyes are filled with animal lust. She can feel his erection against her leg, and he groans and pushes it more firmly against her. He lowers his head and bites her shoulder hard.

"You taste good," he whispers.

Avery freezes—there's something strange about his tone. He sounds like he doesn't even know who I am, she thinks. Is he too drunk to recognize me? Does he think I'm some other woman? Has he moved on so quickly?

She feels as if she's had ice water poured over her head. Her heartaches and her breath catch in her chest. I have no right to be so hurt, she thinks. He thinks I've moved on with Andrew. I can't expect him to spend the rest of his life alone, but I can't bear to think of him with another woman.

She pushes hard against his chest, and he stumbles backward and falls to the floor. He drunkenly stretches out on his back and pats the carpet beside him. Avery ignores the invitation, opens the door, and runs into the hallway without looking. Strong hands grab her, and she freezes.

"Mrs. H—, I mean, Avery," Robert says, taking his hands off her shoulders as fast as he can.

Avery sees Robert look at Evan's door behind her, and then he looks her up and down. A blush creeps into her cheeks; she knows her lipstick must be smeared and her hair feels tangled. She tries to straighten her dress and comb her hair. Robert raises his eyebrows, but he doesn't say anything.

A woman standing behind Robert clears her throat, and Avery notices her for the first time. She glares at Avery with fierce hostility, and Avery wonders if she's ever met this woman before. The woman has lush dark hair and a voluptuous figure. She's wearing a scarlet dress slit up to her thigh, and her tan breasts seem to spill over the top of the bodice.

"Robert, what a surprise!" Avery says, pretending she hasn't just seen Evan. "Is Evan here too? Was he invited, or is he following me?"

"No, he's not following you," Robert says. "I know it's hard to believe, given their tense and violent relationship, but Jackson invited him."

"You're right—it is hard to believe," Avery says cooly. "And such a coincidence that Jackson would put us in rooms next to each other."

Robert's face darkens, and he says, "I hope it's just a coincidence."

"Anyway, your boss is drunk," Avery says. "I got confused, trying to find my room and accidentally went into his. You might want to check on him."

Robert turns anxiously to the woman in red and says, "Why don't you hurry up and go serve Mr. Howel?"

The woman nods and walks toward Evan's door, shooting a nasty look at Avery as she passes. She shuts the door behind her, and Avery feels her stomach turn.

"Thanks for letting me know," Robert says quietly. "I'll make sure he's okay, but I think he'll be fine with the entertainment I've found him."

With a brief nod, Robert follows the sexy woman into the room. Avery stands in the hallway, feeling like she's been punched in the gut. That woman is obviously some escort, she thinks. Evan was so drunk he must have thought I was the escort he'd hired. He used to say I was the only woman for him, but that was clearly a lie. He's very comfortable getting intimate with strange women.

She digs her nails into her palm and tries to slow her breathing. She can smell him and his whiskey on her body, and it makes her dizzy. She stumbles down the hall toward her room, wanting nothing but a hot shower to scrub him off her skin.

Outside the door to her room, she fumbles with the keycard. Her hands are shaking so badly it takes several tries before the green light flashes, and the door opens. She steps into the room and shuts the door behind her, already starting to unzip her dress. Suddenly, the lights turn on, and Andrew stands up and walks toward her.

"Jesus, Andrew," she says. "Why were you just sitting here in the dark?"

Andrew's face is calm and hard as stone as he walks toward her. Avery thinks about the bloody doctor in the staircase and immediately checks for bloodstains on his suit. He seems clean—there's no evidence that he's just murdered a man. She shivers with fear and backs toward the door. Andrew stops in front of her, leans down, and sniffs her neck.

"Where were you?" he asks, putting his hands in his pocket.

"I was just walking around," she answers. "Honestly, I got a little lost. All these hallways look the same to me."

"Really?" Andrew asks with obvious disbelief.

"Why would I lie about that?" Avery asks, feeling for the door handle.

"I can think of many reasons," Andrew says coldly.

"Fine, where do you think I went?" she asks.

Andrew sighs and pulls a cigar from his pocket. He rolls it in his hands and inhales deeply, but he doesn't light it. He slides it back into his pocket and gives her a searching look.

"I think you had a secret liaison," he says. "I think you were with another man."