“Is there anything else we can do for you, Miss Stevens?” the receptionist asked.

“Yeah.” I handed her the envelope I’d addressed before leaving my room. It contained two tickets to Nice, along with my own note that read: In case the mood to try monogamy strikes you, here’s my number. “Do you think a bellman would be up to hand delivering this if I gave him a nice tip?”

She inspected me purposefully before taking the letter. “I think the bellman would be up to hand delivering this if you asked one of them real nice and nothing else. But if you want to leave a tip, I’ll make sure the bellman gets both.”

“For the bellman,”—I slid a hundred dollar bill across the counter, and then one more—“and for you.”

She was about to open her mouth when I cut her off. “I appreciate your help and hospitality.” I headed out the doors before she could object, but I’m pretty sure I heard a few mumbled words of thanks.

I still wanted to be on the beach, but I wanted to put some distance between the last hotel and my new one. After circling Ocean Drive a couple of times, I settled on a quieter hotel that wasn’t right in the middle of it all. It wasn’t quite as luxurious as the last hotel, but the suite was bigger. Once I’d unpacked, I wandered into the bathroom to take a bath.

I avoided the full length mirror on the wall as well as the one over the sink. I knew that for most women, mirrors were either their best friends or their worst enemies, but for me, they were more like ghosts. I was conscious of them, but I did my best to ignore them.

I’d been soaking for all of five minutes before one of my phones chimed. I groaned, but I fumbled through my handbag until I found the ringing phone.

Shit. That was fast.

I took a moment to compose myself before answering. “Hello.”

“I’m struck with monogamy.”

Of course he was. Most men are struck with anything if you give them enough motivation.

“And why do I find that hard to believe?”

“Because you’re you and I’m me,” Daniel said. “That’s why.”

That was the first true thing I’d heard him say.

“I take it you’re calling because you received my envelope.”

“Those were first-class tickets, you know? A woman’s a fool to turn those down.”

“Or maybe you’re the fool for giving them to a woman you barely know,” I replied.

He didn’t have an immediate response. “Maybe, but I feel a little foolish when I’m around you.”

Good. Then I was doing my job.

“You act a little foolish when you’re around me,” I replied. Then, because the sooner I closed out the Silva file, the sooner I could be finished with the Mr. Silva, I turned the faucet on with my toe so water started trickling into the tub.

“Do you need any help?” he asked, his voice low and confident.

Cocky bastard.

“None that requires your assistance,” I nearly snapped back.

“So what am I supposed to do now that I know, wherever you are right now, you’re naked and probably soaping that beautiful body of yours?”

Add brazen to the cocky bastard lineup.

“Oh, I don’t know. Why don’t you go find one of those four girls I’ve seen you with over the past few days? I’m sure they’ve got something that could help you out.”

Daniel chuckled. “They’ve got something that could help me out, but not the thing to help me out.”

“If you hadn’t tracked me down at my hotel to deliver airline tickets to Nice, I’d ask you who you think’s got the thing to help you, but that would make me seem dumb or naive.”

“Which you are neither,” he answered.

“Flattery gets you nowhere with me.”

“And honesty won’t either.”

Hmm.Another kernel of truth from the mouth of Daniel Silva. “I’m afraid you’re right.” I turned the water back off.

“Which is why I must have the opportunity to see if I’m wrong. Just in case. We owe it to ourselves.”

“We owe what to ourselves?” I asked. I’d heard the answer to that question so many times, I could mouth it word for word before the Target even replied.

“To find out if the chemistry that sparks to life when I just look at you transfers into everything else.”

Translation: I want to fuck you sideways, backward, frontward, and maybe even while you’re running because I’m an impulsive little boy stuck in a man’s body who never had anyone tell him no when he was growing up.

“What are you asking, Daniel?” I said with a sigh. “Because I’m not going to the French Riviera with you. I’m not really your south of France type of girl.”

“Every girl is your south of France type of girl.”

“Not this one. I think you’ll find me different from every other girl you’ve ever known.” He had no idea just how different. The wives knew about us Eves, but the husbands never did. Other than getting caught on camera with a siren they just couldn’t say no to, the only thing they realized at the end of it all was that half of their fortune was leaving with their wife.

“So does different-from-every-other-girl Sienna want to have dinner with me tomorrow?” He still sounded pretty damn sure of himself, but not as much as he had in our earlier conversations. I had him back on his toes, following after that carrot I’d dangled just in front of his face. I could ease off of the hard-to-get act.

“If by dinner you mean food and a good bottle of wine and nothing more, then okay,” I said.

Another silence on the other end, but it was quickly over. “Tomorrow night. Eight o’clock. I’ll send a driver to pick you up.”

“Since someone went all secret agent on me, I moved. You don’t know where I am.” I smiled. I loved it when I could stay not one, but two steps ahead of the Target.

“Sienna, I know exactly where you are. I know exactly when you checked in,” he replied in a low voice. It wasn’t creepy, just . . . menacing. Dominant. “I even know what room you’re in.”

Just then, someone knocked on the door. I flinched, but I thankfully didn’t make any audible noise.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” Daniel said before ending the call.

Another knock sounded before I’d crawled out of the tub and into a bathrobe. If that was Daniel on the other side of the door, I wouldn’t be happy. I would be supremely pissed.

However, if that smug face of his was waiting for me, I couldn’t do what a normal boy pursuing girl relationship allowed. I couldn’t slap his cheek or yell at him to go get bent, because our relationship wasn’t “normal.” This wasn’t a surreptitious man meets woman, woes woman, pisses woman off kind of thing. This was a job. I was an actor on a stage giving the performance of my life.

Still, I sighed with relief when I checked the peephole. Only a bellman. He’d better not have an envelope with a couple of first-class tickets to Tahiti in his hand or else I’d send them back, too.

“Good evening, ma’am,” the elderly bellman greeted as he held out a large silver box.

Daniel was persistent. Most of them were. It made my job easier.

“Thank you.” I took the package and set it on the sofa table before rushing back to the bathroom to pull a tip from my wallet. I was going through tip money faster than normal on that trip, thanks to Daniel and his extravagant gifts.

“Anything else I can get you this evening, ma’am?” the bellman asked, nodding his head as I handed him the tip.

“Yeah,” I said. “If any more gifts, envelopes, or packages arrive for me, please just don’t accept them. It saves me from having to send them back.”

“Can do, ma’am,” the bellman said with a chuckle as he headed for the elevator. “Man troubles?”

I lifted my eyebrows. “Always.”

IT WAS A dress. A nice one. The price tag had been removed, but I didn’t need it to know that Daniel had spent five figures. It was red, curve-hugging, and cleavage-showing. Mrs. Silva really did know her husband. It was a gorgeous gown, something I could have picked out, but as I got ready the next night for our dinner date, it stayed in the box.