I will make amends.
But first, I have to know the truth.
34 – Stasi
When I wake up, it takes me a few seconds to remember where I am. I squint, taking in the unfamiliar painted red wall opposite me.
And then my whole body flushes a deep, hot, matching scarlet as the memories flood in, the lingering ache between my legs a reminder of how it felt to have Silas moving between them.
Swallowing, I steel myself and glance over my shoulder. Searching, even as my stomach begins to twist itself into knots.
But the bed is empty. Morning sun blasts through the window, and I wonder absently how late I am to work as I stretch out, my fingers curling against the bedding as I shove down the lingering disappointment that he isn’t here.
We made no promises to each other, after all. Even if his hands were so gentle on me, even as his wordsinvadedme, until I opened up for him without question.
But I have no regrets. I wanted Silas last night. I came here, and I took him.
Although it feels a little like he’s taken me.
Climbing out of his bed, I take a moment to tidy the bedding, drawing the ends of Silas’s shirt around me as I pad across the room, collecting my clothes and bundling them up into a ball before I slip out.
Thankfully, I don’t see anyone on the dash to my bedroom. One glance at the small clock next to my bed tells me exactly how late I am, as well as answering the question of where Silas is.
I wonder if he’ll tell Kit and Rafe over breakfast.
Swallowing, I rush through my morning routine, showering quickly and scraping my hair back into a tight bun before darting back out of my room.
Where I promptly collide with a hard, very male chest. I bounce off it, an oomph escaping my lungs as warm hands land on my arms.
“Morning.”
Silas watches me impassively as I stare up at him. He’s freshly showered, too, his hair styled, impossibly perfect in a deep blue suit and white shirt. My eyes drop to the small patch of skin showing at the top, where he’s left a button undone.
My lips were on that skin last night.
His hands softly squeeze the tops of my arms. “Anastasia.”
Right.
“Morning,” I rush out. My voice feels too high for the small space between us. “I’m just starting work. Sorry. I was… um. I was running late. Because – well,youknow, but I didn’t set any alarms, so—,”
“Anastasia.”
He doesn’t sound particularly happy. Falling silent, I rock back on my heels, my eyes dropping to the floor. “Yes?”
I jerk when his fingers curl around mine. “Come and have some breakfast.”
“Breakfast?” I choke out. His hand tightens, and he turns, heading down the hall and very much towing me behind him as I stare at his back with my mouth flopping open.
“Breakfast,” he says firmly. “Come on.”
“Can I have my hand back?” I ask weakly.
“No.”
My mouth snaps shut at his grumpy tone. I’ve never really thought about it, but if I had, I’m pretty sure his current mood would not feature highly in myjust-had-sex-for-the-first-time-and-now-he’s-taking-me-to-breakfastdaydream.
So I glare at his back, but I still take a step closer to him as he pushes open the door to the dining room. Rafe and Kit are both there already, chatting quietly over their newspapers and steaming cups of coffee and they glance up, their eyes zeroing in on me.
