THE EMPTY CHAIR AT HER SISTER’S WEDDING WAS SUPPOSED TO PROVE HER FIANCÉ HAD LEFT HER—BUT WHEN A QUIET STRANGER SAT BESIDE HER, KORA NEVER IMAGINED HE OWNED THE HOTEL, OR THAT HIS FAMILY WAS ALREADY PLANNING THE MARRIAGE THAT COULD DESTROY THEM BOTH

No suit.

Dark sweater.

Dark trousers.

Same shoes.

Same careful seriousness.

“You work in the building,” she said, a little drier than she intended.

“I do.”

“You said that last night.”

“I did.”

“What is it you actually do here?”

He hesitated.

It was small. So small most people would miss it.

But Kora had spent years translating Hungarian poets. She knew a pause continue reading …