“Very well.” She gestured with her hands, holding them up in a sign of surrender. “Spirit me away to your lair, Gage, and do with me what you will.” She tipped her head to one side, a thoughtful expression stealing across her face. “Oh, wait a minute.” She bit her lip and shook her head. “You don’t indulge your bad-boy side anymore, do you? Your father saw to that a long time ago, paying off all the questionable influences to leave his precious heir alone.”

The seductive, playful note in her voice was gone, a cold chill stealing into her gaze.

He’d known she had an ax to grind with him after the way his father had bribed her to get out of his life.

He hadn’t realized how hard she’d come out swinging.

Elena followed Gage through his massive home on unsteady legs.

At well over six feet tall, he cut an imposing figure. His build was as formidable as ever, broad chest and muscular arms filling out his tuxedo. As she walked behind him, she could appreciate the way those broad shoulders narrowed to his waist, how his dark hair brushed the collar of his jacket. She caught a glimpse of the tattoos on his forearms just beneath his shirt cuffs. She used to love tracing the intricate colorful patterns there, asking him the stories behind each. And he would tell her, spinning tales of his past in the New Zealand accent that was an aphrodisiac to her. Or maybe it was just Gage—pure and simple. He could have spoken with a Southern drawl or a Boston accent, and she probably would have thought it the sexiest thing she’d ever heard.

He had affected her that way at one time.

She hadn’t been prepared for how seeing him would affect her now. Six years had passed since their relationship ended in an icy goodbye, with Gage believing his father’s story that she’d allowed herself to be paid off in order to leave Gage alone. She’d been so angry at his automatic condemnation that she hadn’t bothered to correct him. If he thought that poorly of her character, then he’d never really known her at all, and couldn’t have possibly loved her.

So she’d told herself that their split was a good thing. An eye-opening moment about someone she’d cared for deeply. She’d even been married since then, a colossal flop of an endeavor that had left her broke and humiliated. Her cooking-show-host husband had taken up with his assistant while Elena was out of town at a conference. She’d become a divorce cliché before she’d turned thirty.

Sadly, even her husband’s infidelity hadn’t left her as unsettled as seeing Gage tonight. Which spoke volumes about her poor decision in marrying Tomas in the first place.