Page 92 of Only the Hunter

When she wakes, it’s because she’s hungry. We order room service, eat in bed with the lights low, and talk about nothing important—Geneva, the cold, whether Swiss chocolate lives up to its reputation. She falls asleep again with her back against my chest. I’ve known for years what this is. The only question was whether she’d let me in close enough to show her.

Sometime in the middle of the night, we make love again, because now that I’ve had her, I can’t stop myself.

I don’t want to stop anything.

She is what I want.

This woman.

Forever.

I exhale slowly and close my eyes, listening to her breathing, memorizing the rhythm.

Hours pass. She rolls off me in her sleep, curling on her side.

I finally drift off sometime before dawn.

Morning light breaks through the sides of the drapes.

I blink awake, disoriented for half a second before I remember where I am. Who’s beside me.

Evie’s still asleep, one leg tangled with mine, hair spread across the pillow, sheet tucked under her chin.

I slip out of bed carefully, pull on my jeans, and cross to the window. Close the drapes more securely so she can sleep longer. When I exit the bathroom, she’s awake. Sitting up. Sheet pulled to her chest.

“Hey,” I say, voice rough. “Didn’t mean to wake you. You can go back to sleep.”

She rubs at her eyes, hair mussed, knees drawn up beneath the sheet. “I’m getting up.”

I enter the closet and dress quickly. When I re-enter the bedroom, she’s still sitting in the same position.

“Want me to turn on the light?”

“It’s fine. I’m going to shower.”

She means after I leave.

I recognize the signal and step out of the bedroom, pulling the door closed behind me.

At the desk, my phone has two missed messages. One from Quinn. One from Hudson.

Quinn

Call when you can. Found something.

Hudson

You’re going to want to see this.

I dial Quinn first. She picks up on the second ring.

“Morning,” I say, glancing at the time. A little after eight here. Early afternoon on the East Coast.

“Gabriel,” Quinn says, crisp and professional. “I’ve got Hudson here. I’m putting you on speaker.”

I move to the kitchenette, activate the Nespresso machine, and set my phone to speaker. “Go ahead.”

Hudson’s voice cuts through. “Hey.”