Rhys and I moved toward the door, but Fairchild blocked our path. He held up a hand to stay us and waited until everyone else had left the room before opening his mouth. “Morgan, you and I need to talk.” His eyes cut to me and his expression hardened. “I need to speak with Rhys privately. Please follow the others to the dining room, Ms. Brown.”

I didn’t want to leave Rhys. My tight hold on Rhys’s hand told him that. After glaring at Fairchild for a good couple of seconds, Rhys looked down at me. His expression gentled. “Baby, you should go. I’ll be there in a minute.”

I felt more than a flutter in my belly at the “baby” endearment. That was new. It caught me so off guard, I found myself nodding. “Okay. I’ll save you some food.”

He grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You do that.”

Leaving him there felt like I was abandoning him, my frustration real as I stepped into the hallway. To my surprise, Jackson was waiting on me.

“He’s a big guy,” he said. “He can handle Fairchild.”

Grateful for his perceptiveness, I gave my good boss a tremulous smile and let him lead me toward the dining room.

* * *

Franklin Fairchild was a slimy, inconsiderate, obnoxious bulldozer of a man.

He held Rhys captive for the rest of the night.

When I realized his plan all along had been to get Rhys alone and badger him endlessly, fury filled me. I was terrible company, sitting amongst my colleagues as they talked about work, life, and their plans to ski the next day. They eventually all started to cotton on about Rhys’s importance to Fairchild when my boyfriend (if he was that) didn’t reappear. I began to worry something had happened to him.

Everyone moved to retire for the night, so I asked one of the servers to put together a plate for Rhys from the cold selection; I was informed that Rhys had already eaten with Mr. Fairchild.

Well, that was something. At least he wasn’t attempting to starve him into submission.

More than three hours after I’d been separated from Rhys, I paced our guest bedroom, growing antsier by the second. Unable to deal with this madness any longer, I crossed the room toward the door, intending to search the house for Rhys.

Yanking open the bedroom door, I was brought to a halt.

Rhys.

Thank goodness.

My shoulders slumped in relief, and I stepped aside to let him in.

Looking drained, Rhys moved into the room, but instead of walking by me, he turned into me, his soulful eyes locked with mine. My breath hitched as he curled his hands around my biceps and slowly backed me up against the door until my body weight closed it. He released one arm to lock us in.

My heart raced as anticipation of yummy physical intimacy filled me.