an unfamiliar black Range Rover was parked in the driveway. This was the first time she’d seen anyone else at the cabin and her stomach flipped guiltily. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, she reminded herself. She was here on a housecall, er wellness out-call or out-call massage session or whatever it was that Pats had insisted on calling it. The service was printed on her business card and everything. She didn’t feel guilty when she pulled up to Miss Lillian’s house, did she? No, because she wasn’t sleeping with Miss Lillian. Violet hauled her massage table to the door and knocked softly. Jace, who’d been expecting her, swung the door open with a smile. “Hi.” “Hey. How are you?” “Good. Come in.” Violet moved passed him and set her table down. In the living room, a man sat on the couch watching TV. Violet immediately recognized him as none other than the Razors goaltender, Alexandre Sebastien.
