Cameron was at a far table in the restaurant, engrossed in some sort of document that was spread across his table and anchored at each corner with what appeared to be the sugar container and salt and peppers. Why on earth was he still here? Was he staying at the hotel? Living back in the Grove? Surely he was just visiting. She didn’t dare look his way again for fear he would feel her gaze on him and come over to talk to her. This was a nightmare. Everything she had kept locked up tight inside was pushing against its prison walls and threatening to deluge her. It wasn’t fair. She had thought it through last night and believed it was over. But instead it was like the intervening years hadn’t taken place. Only her superb training as Andrew’s wife had gotten her through that brief moment in time in the hotel lobby. If he hadn’t taken the hint and left, heaven knew what she might have said to him. And she was above that, past that. So why was her body aching? Please God, she wasn’t one of those fictional creatures who fell once for a man and was doomed to be with him or alone forever!
