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 I’m 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 won’t 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 client’s 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.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” he says in a soft, cultured Southern accent, reaching out a hand to
steady me. “You okay?”
“Damn it!” My ankle throbs so much I’m 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 what’ll happen if you don’t make it
upstairs in the next few minutes.
“Ma’am?” Mr. Southern Gentleman repeats.
“I’m fine.” I tentatively move my foot side to side. “Just give me a minute.”
“Why don’t you come sit down and let me take a look at that ankle?”
“You a doctor?” Odds are Odds are he’s just your standard pervert wanting the chance to
run his hand up my leg. Even if he is a doctor, I’m not about to let him put his hands
on me. Not a wise thing to do, since it’s almost a certainty Mike will find out.
“No, ma’am,” he says. “But I think you may need to rest that ankle just a bit.”
“Really, I’m fine.” I put my full weight on the ankle and nearly fall over as the pain
sparks up my leg. “Ow. Ow. Ow.Hell.”
He doesn’t 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. “I don’t think anything’s broken, but you should probably stay off your feet for
the next little bit.”
“Easy for you to say,” I snap. “You’re obviously not the one running late.”
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 “O” of surprise at the
exact moment I recognize him.
“Athena?”
“Isaiah?”
He embraces me with a crushing hug. “Imagine seeing you here. How are you?”
My spine goes rigid, and I don’t return the hug. “I’m....I’m fine,” I stutter while my
eyes dart around the lobby, trying to see if anyone’s watching me.
“I can’t believe it’s you.” He is oblivious to my discomfort. “Are you in town for
long?”
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. He’s
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. “I live here.”
