When she returned to the hotel, sun-kissed and smelling of jasmine and canal water, Dan was sitting on the balcony. He looked at her—really looked—and his breath caught.

“Just use the fork, honey,” she said, not for the first time.

And Dan, the man she’d married, didn’t get jealous. He got turned on.

Mira sat on his lap, looping her arms around his neck. “Hot,” she whispered. Then she told him everything. Every glance, every almost-touch, every unspoken word.