The implications were terrifying. Mia Grant didn't dare to dwell on it.
She rubbed her nose awkwardly. "Let's go. My roommates should be here soon."
Felix Sinclair, however, wasn't ready to let her off the hook. He switched the umbrella to his other hand and grabbed her wrist.
"Are you not planning to tell Ian Sinclair you're back?"
Mia Grant looked back at him, her gaze fixed on his face. Her clear eyes were like morning dew meeting the inky blackness in his.
It was like two opposite poles, evenly matched. Neither of their gazes faltered.
Then, a glimmer appeared in her eyes, as if she'd discovered a curious new toy. She suddenly rose onto her tiptoes and leaned closer to him.
Felix Sinclair's pupils constricted, a murky turbidity stirring in the depths of his eyes.
"Why do you ask?"
"What?" he asked, snapping out of it.
She smiled and threw his own question back at him: "Are *you* not planning to tell Ian that I'm back?"
