Page 114 of Suite 7

The amber light holds us. Outside this room, the city keeps moving. In here, nothing is required of either of us.

I must have drifted, because the next thing I’m aware of is being lifted again, strong arms, the cedar scent of him.

“What—” My voice is blurred at the edges. “What are you doing?”

“Bath. You need to soak.”

“I’m fine⁠⁠—“

“Humor me.”

I don’t argue. I’m not sure I could if I tried.

His bathroom is all marble and glass and the same controlled aesthetic as the rest of his penthouse. But the large tub is already full, steam rising from the surface, filling the air with lavender.

I look at the tub, then at him.

“When did you⁠⁠—”

“You were asleep.” Like it’s nothing. Like drawing a bath while someone sleeps is an obvious thing a person does.

He sets me down, steadies me when my legs wobble. Then, to my surprise, strips off his shirt.

“You’re getting in too?”

“Unless you’d rather be alone.” He’s already stepping in, lowering himself into the water.

“No, I—” I blink at him. “You don’t strike me as a bath person.”

“I’m not.” He holds out his hand. “Come here.”

I step in and let him guide me down between his legs, my back against his chest.

His arms come around me. Loose. Warm.

We’re quiet for a while. His hands trace slow patterns on my arms, not building toward anything. I watch the steam rise and think about nothing in particular, which is rare for me and feels like a gift.

“This is nice,” I say finally.

“Nice.” I can hear the amusement.

“Okay. It’s perfect. Happy?”

“Very.”

I let my head fall back against his shoulder.

The quiet stretches, comfortable. His thumb moves against my arm, slow and absent, like he’s not thinking about it.

That’s when I know. I’m not falling for the Dom, or the architect, or the man who makes coffee with six level scoops. I’m falling for all of them. Every version of him I’ve been allowed to see.

And that’s not a problem I can sequence my way out of.

His thumb keeps moving. The quiet stretches a little further.

“You mentioned Vanessa once,” I say. “What happened?”

He’s still for a moment. Then: