Roman's POV.
The steering wheel felt like a foreign object in my hands.
I kept my eyes on the highway, watching the asphalt disappear under the hood of the SUV. We were three hours outside of the city, heading toward a secluded lake house I’d bought five years ago and never visited. I needed the silence. I needed the distance. Most of all, I needed to get Sloane away from the intercoms and the black cigar boxes and the memory of that kiss.
I didn't look at her, but I knew she was watching me. Every few miles, I’d catch the movement of her head in my peripheral vision. She was sitting back in the leather seat, the oversized hoodie making her look even smaller than she was.
I glanced over at her during a long stretch of empty road. Her eyes were already on me, blue and searching, filled
