At six-thirty in the morning Raina Lu's phone alarm rang. The moment she moved pain drilled through her. Only then did she remember the injury on her arm. Dawn was barely gray. Light from the guest-room window was dim. Everything from yesterday felt like a dream—always slightly unreal. When Raina Lu came downstairs Mason Han was already up. The living room smelled richly of coffee. Back to her, Mason Han was making coffee with the machine. A gray jacket draped over his shoulders. Posture stra...