Now Beau was left alone with the woman who lived in his dreams constantly. He stared at her, memorizing this new, older, more sophisticated Sarah. More mouthwatering, although the original had been great. The silence between them grew until it was practically a living thing. Why didn't she say something, even if it was to tell him to go to hell? Finally he cleared his throat.
"Good to see you again, Sarah."
"Is it?" Frost dripped from her words. She stood there behind her desk, pinning him with her gaze. "I'm surprised you're not busy with your fan club? I've seen all kinds of pictures of you with your adoring fans clinging to you like leeches."
"Pictures can be misleading," he told her. "Anyway, this was a media event. Something different, but you know that, right?" When she didn't answer, he cleared his throat and blew out a breath. Just get it out there, he told himself. "I'm sorry, Sarah. I am truly, truly sorry."