His lips pressed against my forehead. “It’s been around seven hours.”
“Are you done with business?” I could not hide my curiosity. “I thought I’d see you later today.”
He exhaled. “I had roses to deliver.”
I looked at him. “What roses?”
He flicked his chin toward the sofa near the window.
My mouth fell open. “How the hell did I not see that?” I scrambled up and stared at the bouquet, lips parting wider. I turned back to him. “You seriously brought me flowers?”
He smiled, hand trailing over my hip, a slow drag that made me shiver.
A laugh escaped me. I collapsed back onto his chest and whispered, “You’re so full of surprises. I honestly thought that chat was a joke.”
“The only joke there was the emoji bullshit,” he said.
I rolled my eyes, grinning. “Emojis help show the power of the text,” I said, teasing him. He stayed quiet, and this was precisely what I meant when I said I was excited to see what this man could do. Wasn’t he tired? He was a workaholic, but he needed rest. “Thank you. But you must be tired.”
He leaned in and kissed me, claiming my mouth with hunger. His tongue tangled with mine, the kiss rough and deep enough to pull a whimper from me. My body arched into his, heat flaring everywhere his skin touched mine.
When he pulled back, his lips still grazing mine, his voice rumbled low. “One hour is enough.”
I nodded and whispered. “Let’s sleep then.”
He turned the lights off, and darkness wrapped around us as he pulled me closer. My knee brushed against his bulge by accident, and a laugh bubbled from me.
“Try that again,” he warned, “and we won’t be sleeping.”
“I wouldn’t mind because I’m not the one who’s tired here.”
His hand pulled me closer, shifting me to climb onto him. “That’s it. Sit on me.”
“Oh, come on.” I pushed away. “I’m suddenly sleepy.” His fingers sank into my ass, rough enough to draw a moan from me. “You better stop, Mister Konstantinov.”
But instead of stopping, his hand slipped beneath the waistband of my shorts, fingers stroking until my breath caught. His other hand closed around my throat, tilting my face up to him. We couldn’t see in the dark, yet he found my mouth, kissing me hard as his touch drove me higher.
Pulling away, I panted against his lips. “I command you to sleep.”
He chuckled. “Only because that sounds cute.” I adjusted until I fit perfectly at his side. His hand never left my body. “When is your interview?”
My fingers trailed along his chest. “Next week. Monday.”
“Are you excited?”
A smile tugged at me. “Very. I’ve always wanted this.”
“Good.”
Silence settled again. Outside, birds were already beginning their morning chorus. Rodion’s warmth pressed against me. The calmness that lingered in the room pulled me into a deep sleep.
When I woke up again, I was in bed alone. His side was cold, meaning he had been gone for a while. For a moment, I thought I had dreamt it all, but seeing I was in his bed said enough. The bouquet wasn’t on the sofa anymore. It sat on the bedside table facing me, as if he wanted me to see it the moment I opened my eyes.
He also left a note. I stretched across the sheets, picked the note up, and let out a laugh as I read the message:Don’t forget the date.
Shaking my head, I set it down and reached for the roses. I lifted them to my face and breathed them in. They were fresh, and so impossibly out of place in this room that it made me smile. I needed to get up. Carina was probably already looking for me. And these roses deserved a vase.
I slipped out of bed and ran downstairs. The guestroom was empty, except for my phone, which was still seated on the table where I had left it the night before. I hurried to grab it, realizing with a small jolt of guilt that it was already past ten a.m.