Nothing could have prepared Angela for what, or who, she found when she walked into Gideon Gulliver's office. She froze mid-step, stunned at the sight of Griffin dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans and a sweatshirt with Yale printed across the front. She remembered the sweatshirt, its cottony-softness caressing her cheek many times as she laid her head against his chest. It took everything she had to avoid running into Griffin's strong arms and burying herself in the cozy folds of the ...