Mira moved backward out of the corridor, telephone crumpled against her body. Gregory's words stayed still in her head. She stepped inside a softly lit bedchamber, the door creaking softly shut upon her heels.
She left the phone on the dresser, the screen empty. Her heart was pounding with adrenaline and something more. She remained there a moment, gasping for breath, as the lamplight traced his profile: the familiar jut of jaw, broad shoulders sloping toward darkness.
He turned with deliberation, eyes warm and uninterpretable. "Are you all right?" he asked.
She swallowed, coming closer. "I… I hung up."
He nodded, his face gentle. "Good."
There was a silence between them. Mira tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice rough. "I shouldn't have
