The rain was beating harder now, curtains of water streaming down the floor-to-ceiling office windows, turning the outside world into a blur of distant lights. The muffled sound of drops against the glass created a private symphony, isolating them from the rest of the building.

Ricardo didn't warn her before he acted.

One fluid motion, and Isabela was spun around to face the desk, her body bent over the cold surface of the lacquered wood. The papers she had carefully organized flew like ...