Eric first looked startled, and then he laughed. “Having them around really bothers you? You’re lucky then that Sparkle didn’t put any of the plants you supplied into your room. Jessica and Sweetie Pie have grown fat and sassy feeding off the sexual energy in guests’ rooms.”

Cinn glanced away. “I’ve never put myself on the receiving end of my plants’ talents. Maybe if I had I wouldn’t have done so much experimenting.” Her voice became firm. “But they’re here now, and they’re my responsibility.”

Eric already seemed to be thinking about the fantasy. “Got all the info I need. You’ll get your fantasy when it’s the right time.” He glanced at Donna. “I think we have a few hours to explore our own fantasy before dawn.” Donna and he pushed back their chairs.

“Wait.” Cinn absolutely didn’t believe in any of this, but just in case, she had to ask. “Why not postpone the fantasy until we can enjoy it? There’ll be plenty of time after Airmid and Stephan are taken care of.”

Eric shook his head. “Not a good idea. Live in the moment. It’s the only time you’re guaranteed.” He looked dead serious as he rose and left with his wife.

She swallowed hard as she stared at her drink. Too bad Eric had interjected pesky thoughts of things like danger and death. Taking a gulp of her drink—no polite sips this time—she looked up at Dacian…

And shielded her eyes from the sun’s glare. She laughed out loud. Her hair blew in the light breeze as she climbed the last few feet to her goal. She wasn’t supposed to be here, but knowing the right people at the stadium had made access possible. She’d get at least fifteen or twenty minutes of excitement before they hauled her down. Making sure her backpack hadn’t slipped, she hauled herself over the edge of the locomotive cab’s roof.

She wanted to shout her triumph. Everything was perfect. A warm May day at Minute Maid Park, a ball game between the Astros and the Yankees, and she had the best seat in the place, a perch atop the park’s replica of a nineteenth-century locomotive.

She glanced down from the cab’s roof at the track that ran along the top of the park’s west wall. When she raised her gaze, she knew what she’d see—a panoramic view of the ballpark on one side and downtown Houston on the other.

She raised her gaze. She saw neither. What she saw was a naked man stretched out on the roof. Her roof.