The soft hum of the motel’s aging air conditioner filled the silence between them.
Emily sat at the small table, clutching her father’s letter like it might disappear if she let go. The whiskey James had poured sat untouched beside her, the amber liquid shimmering under the flickering lamp.
Her mind was spinning.
Her father’s secrets.
The vault.
Oliver’s betrayal.
And now—this undeniable pull between her and James.
She stole a glance at him across the room. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest, eyes flickering between her and the door like he was waiting for something—or someone—to attack.
Always in control. Always calculating.
Except when he’d kissed her.
Her heart thudded at the memory, heat creeping up her neck.
God, what was wrong with her?
She was
