“When I went into the bathroom and noticed the mess, you know what I thought?”
I shake my head, anticipatory shame swirling in my gut.
“I thought that I owe you an apology. Nothing about yesterday went according to plan, and you had very little time to change before I was whisking you off again, let alone the opportunity to unpack. That’s on me. How unfair was it for you to have to scramble to get ready for an activity I didn’t even warn you about?”
I loop my arms around his bare torso and hold him a little tighter as a weighted sigh presses out of my lungs.
I’m okay.
Alaric isn’t upset with me, and despite the validity of my initial fear, nothing is wrong.
With my cheek resting on his chest, I say, “I woke up disoriented, then panicked when you weren’t in bed.”
He holds me tighter. “I shouldn’t have left you alone like that. I’m so sorry.”
I scoff. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
He arches back, looking down at me, one brow cocked in challenge. “Fine. Then neither do you.” He smooths his hand over my low back, cupping my head with the other. “What can I do for you right now?”
“I’m fine. I already feel a little better,” I promise.
Yes, I’m slightly mortified he had to see me like this and that I ruined what has otherwise been a perfect night, but the kindest thing I can do for myself right now is let go of that emotion. After a glass of water, I’ll go back to sleep, and I’ll feel better in the morning.
“Do you want to sit with me for a while? Then go back to bed together?”
That sounds nice, actually. Heaven knows it’ll take time for me to settle down again.
“Okay,” I agree timidly, following him over to the couch. “What are you reading?” I ask, tucking my bare legs underneath me as we settle into the cushions.
He side-eyes me. “Don’t laugh.” He holds the heavy tome up. On the cover is a sweet older woman holding up a platter of dumplings.
The title isHomestyle Cooking for the Modern Chef.
I fight back a smile, but a quiet snicker escapes without my permission.
“I said don’t laugh,” he scolds.
“I’m not.” I giggle. “I just assumed you’d be reading a serious book about business, or an anthology about the history of motorsport.”
He shrugs, holding out one arm, silently inviting me to snuggle into his side. “I read cookbooks from cover to cover. They soothe me, especially when I can’t sleep.”
I settle my head in his lap, and he repositions his book in one hand, then runs his fingers through my hair with the other.
“That feels nice,” I murmur, my body already relaxing.
We stay like that for several minutes—me, nestled into Alaric’s side; him, focused on his book while stroking my hair and touching me in the most reassuring ways.
“Tell me when you’re ready to go back to bed,” he says. “Or if you want to try to sleep out here, that’s fine, too. I’ve got you, angel.”
With those comforting words, I close my eyes and drift to sleep.
CHAPTER 41
ALARIC
Our first full day in Monaco proves to be beyond my wildest dreams.
Every moment I spend with Evangeline is one I cherish. She’s so easy to be with and seems genuinely delighted by my suggestions for how we spend the day.
