The valet brought the car around, and the night air was cool against Arianne's skin as they stepped out of the hotel. The encounter in the hallway had lasted no more than thirty seconds—Dominic and Diana, frozen mid-step, the four of them facing each other in the gold light of the chandeliers. Arianne had given Dominic a nod, nothing more, and then she had kept walking. She had not looked back.
Franz had been quiet ever since.
He opened the passenger door for her now, his hand steady on the frame, his expression unreadable. She slid inside without comment. The interior of the car was warm, the leather seats soft beneath her, the faint scent of his cologne lingering from the drive over. He closed her door with a gentle click and rounded the hood to the driver's side.
Before he started the engine, he reached into the backseat. When he turned back to her, he was holding a bouquet.
