Page 8 of Takeover-

He didn’t bother lying. “I don’t have much choice, so yes.”

Michael furrowed his brow. Obviously not the answer he’d been expecting.

Sam held Michael’s gaze. “I’ll be fine.” That wasn’t a lie. It would take a bit of time, but he’d manage. He had to. There was a new job waiting for him once he left Curaçao. A new challenge. A company to rescue and money to be made. He didn’t have the time to be an emotional wreck. William and the board would be watching.

Michael’s expression softened. “You’re an extraordinary man. You’ll find someone.”

Sam tried to keep the bile from his face. He had found someone. If his life had been different, he’d exchange numbers and try to see if there was more beyond extraordinary sex. But the person he was in this hotel room wasn’t the person he’d be once he stepped back onto a plane. “Thanks.”

Michael let go, stepped away, and started to dress. Sam didn’t have to. Didn’t want to—that meant slipping the mask back on. He bent to pick his clothes up off the floor and winced as the skin of his rear pulled and stung.

Right. “How bad is my ass?”

Michael’s chuckle sent a shudder through Sam. “No broken skin. I made sure of that. But you’ll be sore and quite bruised for a several days.”

“So I’ll remember you every time I sit.” Sam huffed a laugh. “I’ll have that, I suppose.” The memories.

Flip-flops were the last item Michael donned. Sam had been right about the footwear. Parrots. Shorts. Glasses. Perfect. “I’m glad I met you.”

Michael stepped forward and claimed a kiss. “Me too.” Then he headed toward the door. When that closed, everything would go back to the way it had been. A sick lurching gripped Sam’s heart and he couldn’t breathe. There had to be some change. He needed a reminder of this night so it would remain real. “Michael!”

The call halted Michael at the door. He turned.

Sam scooped up one of the cuff links, crossed the room and pressed it into his hand. “Take it. Please.”

For a moment, Michael looked as if he might protest. Instead, he nodded. “Good-bye, Sam.”

“Good-bye.”

Michael turned, opened the door, and left.

Sam stood in the entryway for a long time after the latch clicked, staring at the door handle. Then he shook himself and locked the hotel door.

Enough. His life was what he’d chosen it to be. He had a job to prepare for and a company to pull back from the brink of mismanagement. And one fewer cuff link.

It was the last thing that gave him the most hope.