Before Evangeline could refuse, the line went dead. She listened to the dial tone for a moment, a sense of weary resignation washing over her.


    Let hime. She wasn''t at her apartment anyway.


    The phone call had jolted her awake, and now sleep felt a million miles away. She sat up on the suite''s sofa. She was thirsty from the alcohol earlier. She poured herself a ss of water, then poured a second one and padded quietly into the bedroom.


    Finn appeared to be fast asleep, but she knew drunk people often woke up dehydrated. She ced the ss on the nightstand and moved closer to the bed.


    His eyes were closed, his thin lips slightly parted. Even in sleep, his features were strikingly handsome, though the tips of his ears were still flushed red. His breathing, however, seemed a little too rapid.


    She leaned closer, counting the quick, shallow breaths. A flicker of worry went through her. Could something be wrong? He wasn''t used to drinking this much.


    As she debated whether to call a doctor, she noticed that his face was also flushed with an unnatural heat.


    Was he running a fever?


    She reached out, intending to press the back of her hand to his forehead. But before her fingers could make contact, his hand shot out and mped around her wrist.


    The world spun.


    Before she could register what was happening, she was on her back on the bed, with Finn looming over her, pinning her wrists.


    He let out a soft chuckle, then leaned down and gently nipped her finger. "Worried about me?" he murmured, his voice a seductive whisper. The faint scent of alcohol on his breath sent a shiver through her.


    "I... I''m d you''re okay," she stammered. The words came out softer and breathier than she''d intended, almost like a purr.


    A slow smile spread across Finn''s lips.


    "I''m fine," he said. "But I think *you''re* about to be in trouble."


    His gaze dropped to her mouth, and he began to lower his head. Evangeline''s


    mind went nk. The temperature in the room seemed to skyrocket, and a fine sheen of sweat broke out on both of their bodies.


    "Evangeline," Finn breathed against her skin, his voice thick with desire. "Who am


    1?"


    "Finn," she whispered, biting her lip.


    His name tumbled from her lips without a moment''s hesitation.


    A triumphant grin lit up his face.


    "Evangeline," he murmured. "I never realized how beautiful my own name could sound."


    ...


    Downstairs, Soren grabbed a jacket and his car keys. He was heading out the door, his mind made up. He would apologize, he would demand, he would do whatever it took. If he had to, he would physically carry her back to the vi. A small, determined smile touched his lips.


    Just as he reached the door, his phone buzzed. He pulled it out to see a security notification from Fawkes Enterprises. The system was programmed to alert him whenever someone entered his executive office after hours.


    He frowned and opened the notification. The motion sensor had been triggered by the lights in the hallway outside his office turning on. He nced at the time. It was nearly four in the morning. Who would be there at this hour? A burr? Unlikely. The building''s security was top-notch, with a direct line to the police department.


    Soren immediately called Gregory. Two minutester, he had his answer.


    "Mr. Fawkes," Gregory said, "I''ve checked the surveince footage. It''s Miss Yates. She''s at the office."


    "What is she doing there?" Soren asked, frowning.


    "Miss Yates said she saw some user feedback about a data issue with the new product. She wanted to run some optimizations while the servers were quiet."


    Soren nced at the car keys in his hand. "Tell her to go home."