The house settled into silence by nightfall. Only the faint hum of the new security monitors echoed from the guest wing. Myla sat on the edge of Hayden’s bed, brushing her hair back with restless fingers. She couldn’t focus on the book she’d pretended to read. All day, Beck’s touches...those fleeting, deliberate grazes of skin...had haunted her.

And Hayden knew it.

He wheeled closer, his eyes never leaving her face. “You have been jumpy all evening.”

“I’m fine,” she lied, ...