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“I can’t get a personal reenactment?” A brow lifts, a smirk playing at his beautiful lips.

Insolent bastard.

“This is your problem. You’ve always thought you should get special treatment because you’re Harrison fucking K?—“

His head drops to my shoulder, running soft, devastating kisses down to my breasts. “Treat me however you want, Raegan.” He looks up at me, and his expression steals my breath. “I’ll come back for more.”

When his mouth claims mine, I meet him.

It’s urgent for reasons I don’t want to name.

My hands stroke down his chest, linger on the scars covering his pec. It doesn’t feel like a childhood prank. It’s a warning. A promise that the man my lover calls his rival will stop at nothing to destroy him.

And after what Eva said… possibly me too.

If my dream comes true and I fall down a hole tonight—if the deal doesn’t go down, or if Mischa learns we’ve helped the police—I could lose this man forever.

Harrison slips between my thighs, fills me with a familiar need I want to memorize. I’m torn between losing myself in this moment and imprinting it on my mind, my body, for fear it will never happen again.

When we separate after, my eyes drift closed. I feel him shift across the bed, reaching for pants.

“We need to get up.” His lips tickle my ear.

“Mmmm.”

He rubs my tattooed wrist, a habit that makes me smile. “When I met you, I tried to treat you like other women. I wanted to buy you gifts. I wanted to show you the world. But you don’t like anything I buy?—“

“I loved the yacht, mostly because it made you sick. Plus the headphones?—“

“As for the world, you’ve already seen it.” His touch skims up my palm.

“But I haven’t seen it with you.” My body is tingling from what we just did, and my heart is full of him. “I want to see where you grew up. Find a beach food truck on every continent and watch you eat from it like it’s got a Michelin star.”

“Hike in cargo shorts at Machu Picchu?” My breath hitches as I blink my eyes open. “Is that on the table?”

He chuckles. “I have a gift for you.” He reaches for the bedside table and pulls out a box.

“More jewelry?”

I open it to find a tiny camera, smaller than my fingernail.

“So you can capture what it feels like to be up there tonight and relive it whenever you want. Because today is about you. And I won’t let you forget it.”

My eyes burn. I love that he sees me, that even if he doesn’t agree with my choice to play, he’ll support me anyway.

“It’s going to work,” I say. “Mischa ordered the robot cameras for La Mer.”

A tight nod. “Sawyer will see what they see, and he’s patched the police into the feed. I’m patched in too.”

Of course he is.

He’ll be watching the stage, but more than that, the hallways and any rooms with public access.

He can’t see inside Mischa’s office, but he wants to ensure I’m as far from harm as possible.

It hits me for the first time, the possibility that I’ve made this harder on him.

I shift onto my elbows, the sheet bunched over my breasts.