Julian Thorne stood up so fast his heavy leather chair scraped violently against the hardwood floor.

"Clara," he said again, his voice thick with a desperate, naked relief that made Marcus flinch beside him. Julian took a step around the table, his hand reaching out. "Oh my god. Where have you bee

Julian Thorne did not remember the drive from the waterfront high-rise back to his office. He didn't remember stumbling into his private elevator, or the alarmed look Marcus had given him before Julian slammed his office door shut and locked it.

All he could hear, echoing in the cavernous, silent

The morning sun poured through the massive loft windows of Vance & Quinn’s new headquarters, illuminating the dust motes dancing over the drafting tables. Clara stood at the espresso machine, pulling a double shot with the precise, rhythmic movements of a woman entirely in control of her domain.

"