Kit frowned deeply. While Harriet debated whether to call him a cab, she heard him say in a raspy voice, "I want you to take me home." Harriet's brow knitted tighter, and her face darkened. I already quit my job, and he's no longer my boss. What's with that bossy tone? She decided not to argue with her drunken ex-boss and kept her thoughts to herself. She just sighed and walked over to steady him, since he could barely stand. "All right, since we know each other and I'm headed that way, I'll take you home." Harriet knew where Kit lived. He didn't stay at the Rice Residence. He always stayed alone in a luxury apartment downtown. She'd delivered documents there once, but she hadn't gone inside—it hadn't seemed appropriate at the time. Dragging and half-carrying him, Harriet got Kit into the front seat of her car. A cool breeze drifted through the window. Kit leaned back, eyes closed and brow furrowed, clearly uncomfortable. He muttered incoherently under his breath. The sharp, efficient Kit of everyday life was nowhere to be seen—right now, he looked lost and vulnerable. While driving, Harriet shot him a helpless glance and shook her head. "You know you can't drink, and yet you still drank so much ... " It took all her strength to get Kit out of the car and up to his apartment. After wrestling his keys from his pocket, she finally got the door open. The place was modern and cold—everything perfectly neat and almost devoid of any warmth. It didn't feel lived-in. There wasn't even a hint of any woman's presence.Harriet had looked into Kit's background while helping Zaden and Athena. He apparently had no girlfriend and wasn't close to any woman. Getting him to bed left Harriet winded and gasping for breath. Just as she turned to leave, a hot hand clamped down on her wrist! "Don't go ... " Kit had opened his eyes at some point, his gaze foggy and burning. He yanked Harriet down onto the bed. Caught off guard, she cried out as she tumbled right into the soft sheets. "Ah!" The scent of alcohol and the man's warmth soon hemmed her in. Kit's arms locked around her, and his burning lips landed on her neck and cheek, hungry and wild. In an instant, he overwhelmed her senses. "Kit! Let go! Look at me! Do you know who I am?" Harriet shouted, struggling. "I know ... you're Harriet ... " Kit slurred. But his grip only tightened, as if clinging to a lifeline. Alcohol had completely shattered his reason and the self-control he once took so much pride in. All that was left were the raw instincts and emotions he'd kept bottled up for so long. As they struggled, their clothes ended up scattered messily across the floor. Amid the cold moonlight streaming in from outside the window, Kit's ragged breathing and Harriet's muffled cries intertwined. Their reason crumbled in an instant, leaving them swept away by a flood of desire that drowned out everything else. ... Harriet woke up the next morning to blinding sunlight pouring in through the windows. Her whole body ached as if she'd been pulled apart and put back together. The naked man sleeping beside her brought every detail of last night's chaos and passion back at once. She bolted upright, wrapping the blanket around herself, her face alternating between flushed and pale. Kit was still sleeping, looking so calm and innocent with none of his usual sharpness. Damn it! How did this happen? That drunken idiot. He actually ... Harriet's thoughts were a jumble. She'd only meant to bring him home last night, but somehow, she'd ended up in bed with him. And he was her best friend's brother, for God's sake! She was overwhelmed with shame, anger, and confusion. Harriet scrambled to find her scattered clothes, dressed in a panic, and practically ran out the door without saying anything. As the door clicked softly behind her, Kit stirred and slowly opened his eyes. He'd woken up the moment she got up. His head throbbed from the hangover, but the vivid, fragmented images from last night hit him all at once, leaving him frozen. He remembered exactly what he'd done ... Kit sat bolt upright, staring at the empty space on the bed and the lingering scent of Harriet, along with that glaring stain of blood. His face drained of color. He'd actually had sex with Harriet ... Clutching his head, Kit was racked with remorse and confusion. He didn't realize it yet, but that wild, accidental night had sent everything between them spinning out of control.Their story had started most dramatically and awkwardly imaginable. The spark had been lit, with no way to tell how far it might spread. After that wild night, Kit and Harriet's relationship hit an icy low.