By morning, Aurora Sage woke to the sound of her phone buzzing violently against the nightstand. She hadn't slept well—too much adrenaline, too much fury lingering after what Logan Mason had done in front of the cameras.
She reached for the phone, instinctively scanning the notifications. And there it was: her face. Dozens of headlines, hundreds of photos.
"Logan Mason's Mystery Woman—Who Is She?"
"Mason Claims 'She Keeps Me Alive'—New Love Interest or Scandal?"
"Unknown Beauty Steals the Spotlight at Logan Mason's Hotel Appearance."
Her stomach coiled. The grainy, overexposed photos were damning enough. Her hand on his chest. His arm wrapped firmly around her waist. The way he leaned down, their faces close enough to kiss.
Exactly the trap she had warned him about.
Logan's voice drifted from the other side of the suite, rich and careless. "You look gorgeous in those pictures."
