Lucas honestly had no interest in socializing this night.
The private investor dinner was even supposed to be a mere formality, just a handshake meeting between power brokers held in the glass-walled rooftop lounge of the Altair Hotel. The exact kind of place where deals got signed with a toast and a threat within the same breath.
He sat at the head of the table with his jacket off and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
The faint hum of the city below was against his silence as three men argued about market shares and defense contracts.
To his left, a senator boasted about import tax reforms, and to his right, a shareholder laughed too loudly at his own joke.
Lucas offered a polite smile, of course, but truthfully, his mind was elsewhere.
Lorena Sanders.
They hadn't seen each other since last night. Since she had seen him shift in the woods, and since her eyes had gone wide with terror and she'd fainted in his arms.
