As he stepped into the living room, Justin glanced toward the picture window, half expecting to see her sitting there, already nibbling at lunch. He was only vaguely surprised to see the table empty—he'd taken a bit more than the hour he'd allotted. Thinking perhaps she'd fallen back to sleep, Justin walked into the bedroom. The rumpled bed didn't bring on a twinge of desire this time but a feeling of unease. Calling her name, Justin walked toward the bathroom.

The faintest wisp of her scent clung to the air. Because the room was empty, it only made Justin's unease sharpen. Don't be an idiot, he told himself. She isn't tied to this suite. She could have gone out for a hundred reasons. But she was expecting me. She would have phoned down. How did he know? As he walked back out into the living room, Justin reminded himself that they hadn't been together long enough to be sure of the other's habits. She could have run down to the boutique for a dress.

Bending, Justin picked up the small, enamel-handled brush from the rug. For a moment his mind went blank, and he could do no more than stare at it. He shook himself clear. He was being an alarmist—she'd come walking back in any moment. It was like her to leave her things all over the suite. To be untidy, he mused mercilessly. Not careless. Picking up the phone, Justin punched a number.

"Page Serena MacGregor."

He held the brush as he waited. Her beaded jacket hung over the back of the sofa. He could remember slipping it from her shoulders the night before. Sometime during the morning she had picked it up and tossed it there. Then why would she have left her brush on the floor?

"Ms. MacGregor doesn't answer the page, sir."

Justin felt the knot in his stomach tighten. He gripped the handle of the brush until it threatened to snap. "Page Alan or Caine MacGregor." Glancing at his watch, Justin saw that it was thirty minutes past the time he had told Serena to expect him.

"Caine MacGregor."

"It's Justin. Is Serena with you?"

"No, Alan and I were—"

"Have you seen her?"

"Not since this morning." It was the first time in the ten years he had known Justin, Caine realized, that he'd heard a hint of panic in that controlled voice. Something like ice rippled down his back. "Why?"

Justin found his throat closed and stared down at the brush in his hand. "She's gone."

Came felt the receiver grow wet under his palm. "Where are you?"

"Upstairs."

"We'll be right there."

Within minutes, Justin opened the door to admit Serena's brothers. "She might've gone out for something," Caine said immediately. "Did you check to see if she took her car out?"