Mischa had retired to her suite to sit and write up what had transpired for her in that bout of heat. She left nothing out because she was likely going to have to put it into that study, then she’d poured herself a glass of her favorite red wine and sank down on the couch to relax and try to just forget about it.
Only to hear her doorbell ring, and feel with the pack tether that it was Anthony, she’d opened it after only a minute’s contemplation of; did she or did she not want to speak with him? She’d opted to see what he had to say for himself in the end.
He’d been freshly showered and dressed in jeans and a simple tee-shirt, which to her meant he’d returned to his suite to dress. She had been told he was in that one-bedroom suite across from the Delta's suite, with Christy, not in the
