“You feeling better?” he asked her, and she was once again startled at how the man seemed to say aloud the very words that she was thinking, like an external echo of her inner world. He reached for the wine bottle in the ice bucket. “Maybe a top-up before bed?”
“Oh, no.” She held up her wine. “These glasses are the size of soup bowls, I swear. I think you poured half the bottle in here.”
Silver held the bottle up to the light and squinted at the remaining contents. “Yep. Pretty damn close.”
Jo sat at the far end of the sofa and curled her legs under herself, practically climbing the arm to keep from touching him. Frankly, she was still adjusting to this gentler, kinder Silver – if truth be told, she was feeling more and more like she was with Zeke.
All alone.
In a gorgeous hotel.
Nak
