“I don’t want to get her out if it will kill her,” Rowan said.

“I just need to see the monitors with my own eyes.”

“I need to see her chest rising and falling.”

Tessa reached into her small clutch purse and pulled out a silver keycard.

“Five minutes,” she said, holding it just out of his reach.

“My personal guard will accompany you to the elevator.”

“No,” Rowan said, his voice firming up just enough to sound stubborn.

“I go alone, or I walk out of this building right now, guests be damned.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Tessa whispered.

“Try me,” Rowan said.

“The media is outside.”

“If I leave, your father’s stock drops twenty percent before the market opens tomorrow.”

Tessa’s eyes narrowed as she calculated the risk.

She tapped the keycard against her fingernail.

“Fine,” she said.

“But the elevator requires biometric clearance from my father’s office.”

“I will authorize a temporary pass for your thumbprint.”

She turned toward the two guards who had entered the ballroom.

“Take Mr. Vance to the security terminal in the west corridor,” she ordered.