Andrew wasted no time after returning from the U.S. His call came the very evening his plane landed.
"Dinner?" His voice was smooth, playful, but underlined with something else. "Tagaytay. I'll pick you up in an hour."
Carrie blinked, caught off guard. "Tagaytay? You just got back."
"Exactly," he replied. "And what better cure for jet lag than your company? Besides, Manila traffic doesn't count as a view. I owe you something better."
Her instinct told her to refuse, to protect herself. She almost said no. But an hour later, when her phone buzzed with a message from the lobby, she found herself slipping into heels and heading for the elevator.
The guards recognized Andrew instantly when he arrived, greeting him with the kind of respect reserved for men whose faces were familiar from so
