Chapter 30

Giselle's phone rang. She instinctively reached for it, but it wasn't within reach—it was on the other bedside table. She glanced at Reagan, her eyes silently pleading. Without a word, he leaned over, his body stretching across her waist as his hand reached for the phone. As he leaned down, Giselle could feel the subtle pressure of his torso against her—not too heavy, but enough to sense the firm outline of his abs beneath his dark shirt. It was mortifying. Fortunately, Reagan retrieved the phone quickly and tossed it to her, so fast it felt like the moment had never happened. Giselle murmured her thanks and answered the call. It was from the property management office. Assuming it was about overdue fees, she began, "Didn't we agree—" But Hubert cut her off sharply. "What on earth did you do, Ms. Whitman? You nearly dragged our entire office's reputation through the mud! The unit at Driftwood Apartment isn't yours. Just because you know the passcode doesn't mean you can lie