Fanning the Flames
PENELOPE
I went to bed with more questions than answers.
The motel room was cold, and although I’d spent the chilly night with Jackson’s heat at my back, his soft breathing warming my cheek and his hard body having me war with my hormones all night, there was an iciness surrounding us that body heat just couldn’t drive away.
It was this knowledge, this gigantic elephant in the room that refused to go away.
Jackson had another woman in his life.
He’d told me just as soon as I awakened, still in my gown, my vision murky from yesterday’s running mascara.
Her name was a name I recognized, one I knew even before I ever saw her face in my office.
There were a million Margot Dietz’ in the world.
The District of Columbia held about half of them.
They were at your local
