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“Do you want me to get my driver to take you back to his place?”
“No,” she says softly. “I want to go to sleep. I want you to hold me. That’s all, sleep.”
I take a shuddering breath. “Okay.”
We go upstairs, and I lay out a T-shirt for her while she showers, and I shower in another bathroom. I don’t know if she sleeps naked like me, or buttoned up in fussy pajamas like I decide Hendrick wears. But I bet it’s usually naked.
I just pull on my silk robe and return to my room. She’s in bed when I get there, so I strip off and climb in.
My bed’s big enough for us to never meet, but I ease her into my arms and turn out the lights. I lay there, her warmth seeping in, her breathing evening out almost immediately.
I don’t know if I’ve ever deliberately spent the night with a woman where sex wasn’t part of it, but MG’s warm, her weight perfect. Everything feels…right. And I fall into a deep sleep with her in my arms.
FIFTEEN
MAGDALENA
Jac’s still fast asleep, and I think he’s more beautiful like this.
Like this, he isn’t angry or cynical or any of the things that weigh him down in ways I don’t think he realizes.
Ways I don’t think I did until now.
He’s perfection with his inked skin, the broad expanse of back, with covers tangled in a way that expose his fine, tight ass.
I like that he sleeps on his stomach. Hendrick sleeps on his side, at least he does when we’ve slept together. Looking at Jac soothes something in me, something I know would be complete if I had Hendrick here, too.
But he’s not. Right now I have Jac and…shit. I could fall for him, too.
Maybe I’m on that edge, I’m not sure. Or, maybe I just don’t want to know.
I do know I want to reach out and touch him, trace the lines of him.
He stirs, flipping to his back, and even though his cock is soft, it’s sizable. I’d love to palm him, explore him and make him hard with my tongue, but if I do that, I’m going to be in here half theday and I can’t. I need to do some B and E, and research. I might need to drop by Harry’s.
My phone buzzes—the burner—and heart thumping, I pick it up.
It’s a picture of a ring.
And it’s fucking stunning.
Sure, it’s big, probably garish to many, but to me, it’s beautiful. The right outfit with just that, and…
Breathing out, I send it to Harry.
The ring’s old, perhaps not a full-on centuries old generational heirloom, but I’d say about a hundred years or close to. It looks twenties, but that could also be something commissioned to reflect. What I do know is that it’s a natural black diamond, and this would go for about ten thousand per carat with its unusual hue in the black, and the clarity of cut along with the size.
Worth an absolute fortune, but not up there with the priceless pieces.
Wow.That’s all that Harry texts.
I respond.Just came through. Got the bracelet thanks to Jac. Now we need to just get the Heart of Dark Desires and whatever the last one is.
And this,she texts.
Any thoughts?
She sends back a shrug emoji.
