I woke to breakfast being delivered to our room. Instead of Rita or the woman whose name I didn’t know, my deliveryman was tall, dark haired, wearing low-riding jeans, and shirtless, making me forget what had just happened before my morning nap and considering if food was a necessity.

As he turned around toward the bed, there was a split second of the expression I didn’t like. I didn’t fear it, but its presence meant he was no longer the man I’d gotten to know in this ...