A Game of Vows by Maisey Yates

tightened her hold on her laptop bag and chanced a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. He was looking sexier than he ever had, at least to her, in a navy suit, his dark hair left slightly disheveled, as if theirs was a reconciliation made in the bedroom.
    He paused in front of the heavy glass door of the tall, modern building and held it open for her, his dark eyes never leaving hers.
    She made eye contact as she walked in. She wasn’t about to let him intimidate her. Nope. Not going to happen.
    Her gaze was steely. She was sure of it. And his was … amused. It was the first time she’d seen him amused, really amused, in a way that reminded her of the old Eduardo, since he’d hijacked a limo and disrupted her wedding.
    A leaden weight dropped into her stomach. A sudden reminder of why he’d changed.
    She tossed her hair and continued into the building. Sheknew it well. She’d interned there for months and then she’d become the boss’s daughter-in-law. She’d learned about the way a big business ran here, had faced down Eduardo for the first time.
    Another strange wave of homecoming melancholy washed over her. She tried to clear her tightened throat.
    “
Buenos días,
Paola.” Eduardo greeted the woman sitting behind the reception desk.
    “Buenos días, Señor Vega.”
She looked up for the first time, her eyes rounding when she saw Hannah. “Hannah,” she said.
    Hannah’s heart beat against her breastbone. She remembered her? She’d never wondered much if people remembered her. She’d never been back to a place to find out.
    “Hi, Paola.” She’d always like Paola. The other woman had always been nice to her, not laughing at her mangled Spanish, always offering her a smile when she’d come in for work after classes.
    She wondered what Paola had thought when she’d suddenly “abandoned” Eduardo and their six-month union.
    “You’re … back?” she asked, her focus darting from Eduardo and back to Hannah.
    “Yes,” Eduardo said, turning to her, his expression soft, the hard glint in his eye telling her the expression was a lie. “She is.” He lifted his hand and brushed his finger lightly over her cheek.
    A shiver wound through her, tightening her stomach, her lungs, her nipples. She’d tried to forget this part of being near him. Had tried, and failed, so many times to forget what it had felt like on their wedding day when his lips had touched hers.
    To forget that he brought out a beast in her. One that was normally asleep, or at least dormant, kept mollified by the occasional fantasy and gratuitous amounts of cop shows with men in tight uniforms.
    This was different than those contained, allowed momentsof desire. This was different even than the attraction she’d felt for him back when they’d first married. This wasn’t something she had a grasp on; it was nothing she could control or shut off.
    The wedding kiss, and feelings it had created in her, had lingered. But she’d been able to keep it where it belonged. Stored for her convenient use late at night, never invading her body or thoughts during the day. Never when it wasn’t appropriate.
    It was invading now.
    She swallowed hard and worked at composing her face. She wasn’t going to break; she wasn’t going to show nerves. Or arousal. “That’s right,” she said. “I am.”
    Then, just to prove to him that he wasn’t the only one who could play the game, she leaned in, pausing for a moment as his scent hit her. Sandalwood and skin. She couldn’t remember ever noticing the way he smelled before. It was foreign. Sexy. Piquing her curiosity, her need to draw closer.
    So she did, because that had been her intent. Not for any other reason. Her eyes met his as her lips connected with his cheek. Smooth still, clean, a hint of aftershave lingering. She closed her eyes, just for a moment, and let the feel of him beneath her lips fully wash over.
    Then she pulled back, quickly, her head swimming, her heart pounding.
    “Yes,