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“Yeah?”

“I'm really glad it's you.”

Then she's gone, leaving me standing in the middle of this beautiful room with my chest in a steel band.

I'm adjusting the thermostat by voice command when she emerges from the bathroom, and I have to lock my knees to stay upright.

She's wearing pajamas—simple white cotton flannel pants with snowflakes and a pale blue tank top without anything below it.

Her face is scrubbed clean, hair loose around her shoulders, and she looks young and vulnerable and so damn beautiful I can't breathe.

“Your turn,” she says softly, climbing onto the monstrous bed. She's so small by comparison, I start to help her up, but she laughs and makes it without tumbling off.

“You good up there?”

“Feeling like royalty. Go on. I'm fine.”

I grab my own bag and escape to the bathroom before I do something stupid like confess my undying love on the first night we're spending together.

The bathroom is as impressive as the bedroom. The stone wall is carved out to house a massive shower, a soaking tub lines one wall, heated floors make the space radite with warmth.

I make quick work of brushing my teeth and changing into loose cotton pants and a t-shirt, then pause to stare at my reflection.

You've got one job tonight, I tell myself.Make her feel safe and cared for.

Everything else can wait.

When I return to the bedroom, she's sitting cross-legged on the bed, looking small and uncertain and trying to hide both.

“Music,” I say to the system. “Soft instrumental Christmas.”

Piano music fills the space, gentle and unobtrusive.

I move around the room, dimming the lights until they're just a soft glow, checking the temperature one more time, finally making sure the waterfall isn't too loud.

“Are you stalling?” Liberty asks, amusement in her voice.

“No.”

“Then what's up?”

I turn to face her. “I'm making sure to get this right, because once I get in that bed with you, I'm not getting back out until morning. Want to make sure everything's perfect first.”

Her expression softens. “It's already perfect.”

I can't argue with that. Finally satisfied that our space is optimized, I cross to the bed. She watches me approach with those wide eyes, nervous and excited and trusting in a way that makes me want to be better than I've ever been.

“Ready to get cozy?” I ask, stopping at the edge of the mattress.

“I am.”

I climb onto the bed, on top of the blanket just like her. Only the mattress dips under my weight.

She immediately tenses, and I go still, giving her time to adjust, or to decide.

After a beat, I stretch out, and when I raise my arm, she moves closer, tentatively resting her head on my shoulder.

“There you go,” I murmur as I wrap one arm around her, pulling her against my side.