Lina's POV
I was washing my hands when the door swung open and I saw him—Adrian, in all his furious, tailored glory, striding toward me like a man possessed.
Before I could speak, he grabbed my wrist, pulled me into the last stall, and locked the door.
"Luna Storm," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "how's it feel, playing house without your husband?"
My breath hitched. He looked wrecked—dark circles under his eyes, his shirt unbuttoned at the neck, his jaw tight. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week.
Neither had I.
He took my hand and pressed it against his stomach. Hard muscle beneath fine cotton. "Miss me?"
The word tumbled out before I could stop it. "Yes. I missed you."
His jaw tightened. His eyes burned. "Funny. Could've fooled me."
"I've been alo
