And that was all it took to sink back into the bubbling vat of betrayal. For a few hours, immersed in her work, she’d forgotten all about the reason she no longer had an assistant to remind her about her appointments. “Is it too late? Can I still make it?”

“You flew all the way out here. She’s available whenever you want.”

“Great. Let me get changed, and I’ll head over there.” She looked to Harrison. “Do you have directions?”

“I do.”

“You can just follow me,” Brodie said. “I’m on my way there anyhow to help Knox with some technical issues with her new website.”

“Give me five minutes,” Rosalina said.

He seemed surprised. “It only takes you five minutes to turn into a princess?”

“You got a timer on that fancy watch? Start it now.”

She headed for the bedroom but stopped when she heard him ask, “So, what’s cookin’?”

“She’s making an essential oil out of the flower petals,” Harrison said.

“Really?” Brodie’s deep, rumbly voice sounded interested. “What’s the process, exactly?”

“Sorry.” Harrison chuckled. “That’s not my area of expertise.”

“How have you not been paying attention?” Gustav asked. “Basically, the oil leeches the scent out of the petals, and then she uses ethyl alcohol to separate the fat from the smell. Something like that.”

She had to smile at Gustav’s simplistic description, but she liked that he paid attention. With the clock ticking, she closed the door, hurried to her suitcase, and grabbed her skinny black pants. Then, she headed into the closet where she’d hung a couple shirts and a blazer.

Grabbing the closest, a pretty black and white striped blouse, she nabbed a pair of vintage Louboutins she’d found in a little boutique in London. In the bathroom, she pulled off her T-shirt, got dressed, swiped on some red lipstick, flipped her hair upside down, spritzed a holding product, and then straightened. Done.

But, as she gazed in the mirror, she couldn’t help wondering what Brodie saw when he looked at her. Did he see the scientist? An attractive woman?

Actually, what she really wanted to know was whether sexiness came naturally or if it took effort. Like, were some people just born sensual or was it a conscious choice in their clothing and make-up choices, in the way they moved their bodies?

It struck her that she already had her answer. She wasn’t attracted to Marcel, so she didn’t feel sexual around him. And she only knew that because around Brodie she felt…aware of herself. Her breasts, her hair, her smile, the sway of her hips.

It changes everything.

Of course, it wasn’t about Brodie. After Monday, she’d never see him again. It was about what he’d awakened in her. On her way out the door, she yanked a black silk scarf out of her suitcase and wrapped it around her neck. Done.