The man's voice behind her was a chilling warning.

Vivienne's back was pressed snugly against his chest, the heat of his body seeping through to hers, his desire an insistent pressure.

A sudden whiff of a familiar, cool scent hit her, and she knew exactly who it was.

It was Mr. K.

"Mr. K, you're not looking well. Let's get you to the hospital," she urged.

Her voice was a mix of concern and awareness of the undeniable tension in the air.

She didn't dislike ...