Owen understood Dante's earlier mood. His juvenile jokes must have been stress relief. Owen had pressed for more details about Bea's illness, but he wouldn't share. Guilt rolled over Owen like a tank. His situation demanded time his brother didn't have to give.

"Why so quiet?" Dante asked. "Still thinking about the red headed bombshell?"

Owen snapped from his thoughts and glanced out the car window at the passing landscape. "I can't stop."

"Look, she told you she'd come to see an old boyfriend, and he was with someone else. It was a grudge fuck. That's all. She got a kick out of doing you while he was a few floors below. For all you know, she took a picture of the two of you in bed and texted it to him. Some people are crazy."

He shook his head. "She wasn't like that. She was kind. Understanding. Sweet."

"Understanding about what? You didn't hurt her, did you?"

"No! I've never hurt a woman." That wasn't exactly true. When he'd grabbed her wrists, she winced. But the force hadn't been intentional.

"I know you wouldn't do it on purpose, but your anger issues makes you react before you think."

"She wasn't upset when she saw my scars."

"Oh. Sorry. Shouldn't have jumped to conclusions."

"I deserved it, but I'm working to change that. Maybe you're right, and she slept with me to get even. But last night was the first time I didn't have nightmares. Something about her made me calm."

Dante changed lanes and smirked. "Or, maybe she just fucked you into unconsciousness."

"Not funny."

"I think it's hilarious. You've fought me for weeks about getting laid, and now a woman breaks into your room and sets a land speed record for getting you out of your drawers. What about Silbie?"

Anger bubbled in Owen's chest. He heaved a deep breath to push it down. "She's moved on. Time for me to do the same."

Dante shook his head. "I don't think she has."

"She has a new life. And I don't fit. I won't mess that up for her."

"Don't you think you should at least tell her? I mean—you two loved each other—still do." Dante wheeled into a parking lot and killed the engine.

Owen looked up at the high rise. "Where are we?"

"One of Bea's companies. I need to drop off some paperwork. Shouldn't take more than fifteen minutes. You want to come in or wait in the car?"

"I'll stay put."

"While I'm gone, take a look over your shoulder at those two handsome dudes." Dante chuckled, exited the Lexus, and disappeared into the building.

Owen craned his neck to get a look and came to face a Filgard Realty billboard. He and Dante stood side by side, smiling as if they didn't have a care in the world. Owen remembered the day the photo was taken—and at the time, life was good. New business. Big plans. Bright future. How had things gone so wrong?

He whispered a laugh. Three words answered that question. Parkers Prairie, Texas. If he'd never gone there, he would have never met Silbie Luna, future superstar, love of his life.

He swore this would be the last time today he'd think about her.

An hour later, after they did a walkthrough of the new real estate office, and picked up Dash, it was past noon when they returned to the hotel. Not one to waste time, Dante called ahead and arranged for Owen to watch the security footage from the Masquerade Ball.

He'd viewed the hallway to his room for the last forty-eight hours, and there'd been no sign of the mysterious woman on his floor. He'd scrutinized all the people in the banquet room frame by frame. Not a redhead in the bunch. No woman wearing a shiny gold dress. He'd even checked the front entry. No one fitting that description arrived there.

Dash perked his ears. The door to the small office opened, and Dante stuck his head inside. "Any luck?"

"No," he scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Maybe she did beam herself in. That seems to be the only possibility. If it wasn't for that damn hair on the pillow, I'd believe it was a dream and be done with it. But how'd that get there if she wasn't really in my room? It's driving me nuts."

"The transference theory is making more sense. Maybe Dash brought it in."

At the sound of his name, the dog sat up and cocked his head. Owen combed his fingers through the dog's fur, and Dash laid down again.

"You want to grab some lunch in the dining room? The nurse is with Bea, so I have time."

"Sure. Might as well let this go. I've looked at all the footage—twice. She's just not there."

Dante's phone sounded. He looked down at the screen then back at his brother. "It's Silbie."

Owen shook his head. "Don't answer it."

All morning Silbie fought the urge to call Dante and pick his brain about Owen and last night's encounter. But now that she was air bound for California, she couldn't stand the suspense any longer. She cleared her throat. At least today, she sounded close to normal. She let the phone ring until it went to voicemail, then strained to elevate her voice an octave. "Hey, Dante. It's Silbie. Wanted to check on Owen. Call me when you can—and—tell him I love him." Her voice cracked on the last part.

Maia patted Silbie's knee. "He'll call back."

Silbie pitched the phone onto the seat beside her and sighed. "Even if it was a stupid plan, at least I got to see him—talk to him—be with him."

"It wasn't a stupid plan. Right?" Maia looked around at everyone, and they all mumbled their support. "See, we all agree. It was a brave move, and you pulled it off."

"Look at this way," Zach said. "Missions are to assess, engage, apprehend. Can't always complete all three in one go. Patience is important. At least, now you have a better understanding of his situation."

"That's what worries me. He was so—different. Sad. Unsure of himself. Almost—frightened."

"Of you?"

She shook her head. "Of what I wanted from him."

"Readjusting is a challenge for soldiers, but considering what he's been through—even more so."

"Even you?" Maia asked.

"When I first got out it was. What I do now is different. An assignment now and then. Not the daily grind of military life. My point is, PTSD hits hard, but he's got the support of his family—and Silbie. That makes all the difference."

Silbie's lip quivered. "His back is covered in scars. It breaks my heart to think about what happened to him." She wiped her cheeks with her palms, then sniffed. "Actually, I should be pissed. He didn't put up much of a fight when the French lady seduced him."

Zach laughed. "No matter what he went through, he's still a guy. When it comes to the right woman, willpower is not a strong suit."

"Amen," Logan said. "And, you can call it a stupid plan if you want, but it's going to make one hell of a screenplay. When I sell it, I plan to insist Silbie play the lead. She's already lived it. And Zach, since you led Owen's rescue, I may be able to convince the director to cast you. God knows you've got the looks for the big screen."

"Not interested. But I might sign on as a consultant. By then, maybe I'll have a training facility near Tinseltown."

As Silbie listened to the conversation around her, she told herself, if Owen never allowed her back into his life, at least she'd always have this. These friends who were willing to stand by her no matter what. If the day came when Owen had the guts to tell her he didn't want her anymore, this would have to be enough.

Owen picked at his food and listened to Dante with half an ear. What he really wanted was to hear Silbie's message, but he wouldn't ask. That would only get him started again about calling her.

"So, what do you think?" Dante asked.

Snapping from his trance, Owen drew his brows together. "What'd you say?"

"The new office. You didn't have much to say about it when we were there this morning."

"I like it. Still not sure if I'm ready to sell real estate, but you've gone through so much trouble—"

"Hey, no pressure. We've got great people in place. Pascal is a good manager. And the agents we've signed are producing sales and getting higher dollar listings. If this keeps up, we'll show a profit next quarter."

"You've become quite the businessman," Owen said.

"I owe it all to Bea." Dante reached for his phone. "You're too chicken to ask, but you're dying to hear the message Silbie left. So, here you go." He hit speaker, and her voice came on. Then Dante replayed it again.

Owen grabbed his hand. "Stop it."

Dash came to his feet and nudged Owen's leg.

"Watch it, brother. You're about to lose your temper."

Owen closed his eyes. Sucked in two deep breaths. Ran his hands through Dash's fur, and stared at Dante. "Sorry."

"It's okay." Dante bobbed his head. "A few weeks ago, that would have ended with you screaming at me. Tell you what." He palmed his phone again. "I'll just forward her message to you, and you can listen anytime you want. Should have been doing that all along. Then you'd have proof she still wants to be a part of your life."

Owen should have told him to go to hell, but wasn't sure he could sell the objection when he really wanted to hear her say those words over and over. And he would. As soon as he got back to his room.

His willpower is breaking down. Do you think he's gonna keep tracking the mystery woman or go straight for Silbie?

TEASER: "Well, I must be heartbroken."