Dawn's first light crept through the curtains.

Ethan Sullivan adjusted his cufflinks before the floor-length mirror, his tall frame accentuated by the silver-gray suit. He glanced at his wristwatch—thirty minutes until the scheduled meeting.

"Your tie is crooked." Sophia Laurent rose on her toes, her slender fingers deftly straightening the silk tie. She leaned in suddenly, brushing a featherlight kiss against his lips. "My man looks exceptionally handsome today."

Ethan chuckled, his thumb tracing the delicate curve of her cheek. "My woman has impeccable taste."

A discreet cough sounded from beyond the door.

Sophia smoothed the wrinkles from his collar. "Go conquer the world."

"Wait for me." He pressed a kiss to her forehead, his expression shifting seamlessly into the cool detachment of a corporate titan as he turned away.

In the restoration studio, Sophia was wholly absorbed in repairing a Ming Dynasty landscape painting. As the setting sun painted the room in gold, the door swung open.

"Deal closed?" she asked without looking up.

Ethan loosened his tie and wrapped his arms around her from behind. "There's a birthday dinner tonight. John Townsend's grandfather chairs the California Antique Association."

Her brush stilled mid-stroke. Turning, she met his fathomless gaze before pushing him onto the sofa. Her lips traced his brow, the bridge of his nose, then lingered near his mouth. "Mr. Sullivan always plays the long game."

In one fluid motion, he reversed their positions, his fingers skimming the elegant line of her collarbone. "Mrs. Sullivan's performance last night deserves even better connections."

A blush crept to her ears, but he captured her lips before she could retort. The kiss was relentless, leaving her boneless beneath him. When his palm slid beneath her blouse, she melted like wax against flame.

The bedframe groaned in protest.

Outside, the sunset set the sky ablaze, yet it paled against the heat between them. Sophia felt herself dissolving in his embrace, clinging to his shoulders as if they were her only anchor.

Dusk had settled by the time she touched up her makeup in the bathroom mirror. Her reflection shimmered with post-passion radiance, the telltale marks along her throat only partially concealed by a pearl necklace.

The Townsend estate was a classic Victorian manor. Crystal chandeliers bathed the grand hall in brilliance, where Sophia entered on Ethan's arm amidst a sea of designer gowns and champagne flutes.

A hush rippled through the crowd.

"Ethan!" John Townsend hurried over, his eyes lighting up at the sight of Sophia. "The legendary Crane Painter from television?"

Ethan shifted subtly to shield her. "My wife, Sophia Laurent."

"An honor!" John executed an exaggerated bow. "Grandfather has been expecting you upstairs."

Midway up the staircase, a familiar voice called out. Jessica Grant descended like a flame in scarlet silk, her brother Kyle Grant transformed in a tailored suit beside her.

"Sophia!" Jessica greeted her with a cheek kiss before winking at Kyle. "Perfect timing, isn't it?"

Ethan's jaw tightened as he drew Sophia closer. "We're finalizing our remarriage."

Jessica arched a brow. "So technically still single?" Her suggestive glance toward Kyle faltered as he stared fixedly at Sophia's pearls.

The chandelier's fractured light spilled between the four, charged with unspoken currents.