To Con's surprise, dinner passed in a pleasant manner. He wasn't ambushed by terrifying delusions and, after their initial interest, the rest of the guests ignored him. The food was amazing—a slightly pink steak served with a sauce Con couldn't identify but loved, a perfectly baked potato, asparagus sautéed with lemon and garlic, and a garden salad with fresh, crisp vegetables.

Ella Park had been right when she'd said the hotel was nicer inside than outside. The dining room was filled with old-world elegance. Golden, glowing lights reminiscent of candlelight illuminated the room. The tablecloths and carpets were a rich burgundy, the tables and chairs made of the same dark wood Con had seen in his room.

There were old photographs in here, but not too many, along with a few oil paintings. Con spent most of dinner studying a depiction of what he thought must be a Civil War battle. Officers on charging horses wielded sabers, the men behind raising muskets with bayonets glinting sharply on the ends of the barrels.

Light classical music filtered through the room, not loud enough to be a distraction, but loud enough to fill the spaces in his brain prone to wandering.

When he'd finished eating, he checked his watch. A little less than thirty minutes had passed. He gave his demolished dinner a bewildered look. It had been a long time since he'd been that hungry. 

He declined when the waiter offered wine and dessert, reaching for his wallet to leave a tip. Much to his chagrin, he found his pocket empty and realized he must have left his wallet back in his room. Con rubbed at his temple, his annoyance ebbing toward anger. He made a point to never be this absent-minded.

It would seem Mercy's de-stress idea had failed before it even started. So far, this little retreat had only managed to give his insanity even more of a foothold than it already had.

Con let out a sigh, looking at his watch in vain again. The minute hand had only advanced another tick. Con could only hope the maid service here was fast. Now that he'd eaten, he realized he was still exhausted. All he wanted was to fall into bed and sleep another eight hours.

Making a mental note to leave a thirty percent tip next time to make up for tonight, Con pushed his chair back and began to make his way out of the dining room. He'd nearly made it to the door when a chair shot into his path. Con nearly fell over himself attempting to avoid it. Again his temper flared, but he bit his tongue.

It was an accident, he reminded himself as he met the gaze of a startled older woman.

"The hot springs will help with those circles, dear."

That was so not what Con had expected, all he could do was gape. 

"The ones under your eyes," she explained with a smile, her teeth startlingly white against her dark brown skin. "Wonderful for circulation."

Then, she began to pick her way toward the bathrooms on the other side of the room.

"I am so sorry," said a woman who must have been the first's sister. She gave him a wry smile. "She swears by all this stuff. Hot springs, aura adjustments, incense. Hocus pocus."

Con barely managed to suppress a snort. "You don't?"

The woman propped her chin on a hand with deep purple nails and lots of rings. "I'm an MD." She shrugged. "It's not so much that I don't believe there aren't some benefits. I just know hot springs aren't gonna cure all your ills."

At that, she gave Con such a piercing stare he would have sworn she could see the illness stamped across his mind. His lips twitched in something that wasn't quite a smile. There didn't seem to be anything else to say, so he just nodded and continued on his way.

Now he was praying that the maids were done in his room.

He'd made it to the foot of the stairs before a light touch on his elbow made him turn. Con wasn't surprised at all to find Taemin watching him, head cocked.

"You could have just said you prefer dinner."

Con scoffed. "What I prefer is being left alone."

That earned him a laugh, the sound coming from deep in Taemin's throat. He raked a hand through his hair, sweeping it back from his face in a way that had Con's mouth go dry.

Which was...weird. Attraction had been a foreign word to him since Jenna's death. 

Unsettled, he turned his back on Taemin and began to ascend the stairs. His shoulders hunched defensively when Taemin caught up, falling into step.

"You met my sister."

Con was getting really sick of these random pronouncements. 

"Ella," Taemin prompted. "She told me about you."

Con cringed at the idea of being interesting enough to remark upon. Holding his silence, he turned onto the second flight of stairs. Taemin easily kept pace and seemed completely unfazed by Con's cold shoulder.

When they reached the top of the stairs, he stopped and faced Taemin fully.

"What..." He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. "What do you want?"

Taemin grinned. "That seems like a loaded question."

Raising an eyebrow, Con allowed himself to study the other man. Silver hoops glittered from both ears, a light smudge of eyeliner once again drawing attention to the beautiful shape of his eyes. Along with the black jeans, he wore a black turtleneck with a silvery, houndstooth-patterned suit jacket over it.

"A conversation."

Con blinked. "What?"

Taemin gave a smile bordering on sweet. "Just a conversation."

"About?"

The other man shrugged, sliding his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. "Anything, I guess."

Maybe he had a personality disorder. This was nothing like the bold stranger who'd opened Con's door for him. Instead, Taemin seemed almost...shy. Or maybe that other Taemin had been a figment of Con's messed-up imagination, just like the shadow figures and the bugs.

"Have you been to the springs yet?"

Con just shook his head.

"Everyone's at dinner now."

The implication—and the sudden arrogance—gave Con whiplash. His eyes went wide and he shook his head, hard. Definitely not his imagination. Definitely a personality disorder.

Taemin just smirked, watching Con with those fathomless eyes. "I'll sit five feet away if that'll make you feel better."

"That's not—I'm not—You're—" Con cut himself off before he could sputter any more. He took a deep breath, held it, then said, "You don't really take no for an answer, do you?"

"Are you telling me no?"

Con was once again struck speechless. Taemin took a prowling step forward and reached out, running a hand down Con's chest before hooking a finger in his belt. He drew Con closer, but Con grabbed his wrist, not attempting to be gentle.

"I didn't say you could touch me," he snarled, fingers pressing hard into the fine bones of Taemin's wrist.

"You didn't say I couldn't." Taemin was looking at him through what Con could now see were devastating lashes. That gaze trapped him and his grip loosened, thumb stroking over Taemin's wrist.

A small voice in the back of his mind was asking what the hell he was doing, reminding him of Jenna. Screaming that he still wasn't over his wife and this was a bad idea. Another, more insidious voice was saying it had been a really long time. And that Taemin was absurdly gorgeous.

Taemin's lips parted, an invitation if Con had ever seen one.

His thoughts were hazy. Far away. Unimportant in this moment. Taemin's lips turned up in a smug little smile as Con swayed forward.

A cleared throat brought the world crashing back down around him and he jerked away from the other man, suddenly furious.

What the hell was he doing? He didn't care how beautiful anyone was. His heart was still absentee and, even if Taemin was offering nothing more than a night of fun, Con didn't want to be involved on any level.

Taemin made a sound that could only be called a growl and turned, revealing Ella behind him. She glared at her brother, fierce despite being a whole head shorter than him.

"Starting a little early, Tae?" she asked icily.

Neither her tone nor her question made sense. Con decided he didn't care. He pushed past Taemin, knocking his shoulder hard against the other man's. 

"Bye, Con," Taemin purred.

Con skirted carefully around Ella, who was still glaring daggers at her brother. It took all of his control not to sprint the rest of the way to his room. Slamming the door behind him, he vowed he'd stay the hell away from both Park siblings for the rest of this  goddamned week.