“We all are.”

“If there’s anything I can do…”

“That’s nice of you, thanks.” Once again the conversation stalled, but Adam didn’t feel comfortable leaving her to her own devices in her current mood. Why he’d decided her own devices were his problem was something he could figure out later, after he’d seen her safely into her room. “I heard from Sasha.”

Abby gasped, and her full lips pursed fetchingly. “Really? What did she say?”

Adam was so focused on her sexy mouth that it took a second for the question to permeate the fog in his brain. “Um, she’s sorry. Wants to talk to me. Loves me, etc.”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing,” he said with a shrug. “She texted. I haven’t replied.”

“Are you going to?”

A door opened down the corridor, and a sleep-mussed head poked out. “Do you mind? People are sleeping.”

“Oh,” Abby said. “Sorry.” Before Adam’s dazzled eyes, she reached into her top and pulled a room key card out of her bra. When she caught him watching her, she blushed madly. “What? I didn’t want to take a purse with me.”

“I hope you’ve got ID stashed in the other cup.”

Over her shoulder, she stuck her tongue out at him. “It’s in my back pocket, if you must know.”

The movement of her tongue detonated his stockpile of lust, sending it all to his groin in a rush of heat that had him removing his jacket to hide the effect she’d had on him. What the hell was that all about? Adam found himself once again trying to remember that this was Abby, who had nearly married his brother—the same brother who was going through some sort of private ordeal and probably wouldn’t appreciate Adam lusting after his ex.

A huge bed dominated the small hotel room. Since there was nowhere else to sit, Adam lowered himself to the corner of the bed, keeping his jacket strategically placed over his lap. “Hot in here,” he muttered.

“No such thing as air-conditioning in the hotels on this island.” She opened a window, sending a cool breeze billowing through the small space.

Abby sat next to him on the bed, kicked off her extremely high heels and crawled up to the pillows. “Are you going to write back to Sasha?”

“No.”

“Won’t you have to deal with her eventually? You live together, right?”

“Lived. Past tense.”

“What about all your stuff?”

“I’ve got my computers. That’s all I care about. I’ll send movers to get the rest.”

“And the business?”

“It’s all hers. They have to buy me out, which they’re in the process of doing, but beyond that, it’s a done deal. I don’t expect to ever see her again.”

“Since you insist on forcing your company on me, I’d much rather talk to your face than your back.”