The interior of the Audi was a tomb of high-end leather and suffocating silence.
Howard's hands were clamped onto the steering wheel, his knuckles white enough to pop. His gaze was a laser, fixed entirely on the silver car swaying through the twilight ahead of them.
Logic dictated he should turn around. He had a beautiful, willing woman in the passenger seat and a suite at the city's most discreet hotel already booked and waiting.
But the jealousy was a jagged glass shard in his gut, sharper than any desire he had for Siobhan.
He had to know. Was he merely paranoid, or had the untouchable Tisha Wells actually fallen into the hands of that bastard?
And then there was Heena. Was she truly just a convenient chauffeur, or was there another play here... a deeper betrayal brewing right under his nose? The uncertainty was a poison he couldn't stop drinking.
