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“One night,” I echo against her lips. “It’s all I need.”
* * *
We stumble into my hotel suite a tangle of hungry lips and grasping hands. Flore tears at the buttons of my shirt while I hike up her dress, shoving lace panties aside. She’s wet and ready, thighs slick with need.
I lift her against the wall, and she wraps her legs around my waist. Our joining is hard and fast, a claiming more than an act of love. She cries out as I plunge deep, nails scoring my back. I growl into her neck, thrusting up into tight, silken heat.
She shudders around me, coming with a sob. I follow soon after, spilling inside her in hot pulses.
We sink to the floor, a tangle of sated limbs on the marble tiles. Flore rests her head on my chest, fingers playing in the coarse hair. I stroke her back, her hair, content in this quiet intimacy.
“I don’t do this,” she says after a while. “Casual sex, I mean. I don’t make a habit of sleeping with men I’ve just met.”
“Neither do I.” I tilt her chin up, meeting her gaze. “You’re not just any woman, Flore.”
A blush stains her cheeks. She ducks her head, but not before I see the smile tugging at her lips.
“I should take you back,” I say, though I’m loath to leave the warmth of her embrace. “Let you get some rest.”
“Can I stay?” She peers up at me through her lashes, vulnerable in a way she hasn’t been before. “Just to sleep. I’d feel safer with you here.”
I brush a stray curl behind her ear, struck by her admission. “Of course, stay.”
She stands on tiptoe to press a soft kiss to my mouth. “Thank you.”
I scoop her into my arms, carrying her to the bedroom. After tucking her in, I slide under the covers behind her, drawing her back to my chest.
She sighs, nestling closer. Within minutes her breathing evens out, lulled to sleep in my arms. I stay awake a while longer, keeping watch through the night.
Over her heart, where my hand rests. And over the stirrings of something more.
* * *
The next morning, golden sunlight filters through the curtains, bathing the room in a warm glow.
I blink awake to find Flore curled against me, her head pillowed on my chest and one leg slung over my hips. Our bodies are fitted together like two pieces of a puzzle, as if we were made to hold each other this way.
A lump forms in my throat at the sight of her. At the realization I could get used to waking up like this every morning.
I brush a stray curl off her forehead, struck by how peaceful she looks in sleep. The usual tension in her expression has melted away, leaving her features soft and relaxed.
Beautiful.
She stirs under my touch, eyelashes fluttering open to reveal eyes the color of rich espresso. “Good morning,” she murmurs, voice husky with sleep.
“Morning.” I press a kiss to the top of her head. “How did you sleep?”
“Better than I have in years.” A smile curves her lips as she draws lazy circles on my chest. “You?”
“Perfectly.” It’s the truth. I’ve never slept better, holding her in my arms.
5
Flore
The sun filters through the stained glass windows of the royal library, dappling the oak floorboards in muted shades of red and blue. I stare at the legal brief in front of me, reading the same sentence for the tenth time. My mind refuses to focus, distracted by memories of last night—of Ben’s hands on my waist, his breath hot against my neck, his commanding voice whispering in my ear.
I shake my head and run a hand through my curls, trying to banish the images. This is highly inappropriate. Ben is here to protect my sister, not fulfill my ridiculous fantasies.
