Andrea had set new rules. She had written them in her head somewhere between locking the connecting door last night and finally falling asleep, and they were simple. “Do not stare at him too long. Do not notice things about him that have nothing to do with work. Do not think about the way he looks at your lips like he wants to devour them.”
And under no circumstances was she letting Paris make her soft.
But she was already breaking the first one of her rules by the time she walked into the hotel restaurant and saw him.
The room was quiet at this hour, only a handful of guests scattered among the white tablecloths. Morning light poured through the tall windows in long, pale strips that made the silverware gleam and turned the wet pavement outside into a dark mirror.
Henry sat at a tab
