The moment Michael Helwart pulled her into his arms, Linsy’s entire body went rigid against him. It was a reflex, a wall going up before her mind could even process the embrace. After a frozen, breathless beat, she slowly lowered the heavy cast-iron skillet back onto the stove, the sizzle of garlic and ginger the only sound in the suddenly charged space. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice carefully calibrated to neutral. “Dinner is almost ready.”

Michael didn’t answer with ...