I woke up slowly, taking a moment to register where I was. Oh, right—I’d married Gabe Clifford, a gorgeous man with the most stunning blue eyes I’d ever seen. And on our wedding night, he’d bolted, leaving me to dream about the passionate night that never happened.

I glanced to the side and spotted the framed photo of Jorel Clifford and me, smiling happily on a cruise.

“It could’ve been us, couldn’t it, younger Clifford brother?” I murmured, tracing his face with its ...