“Is that a complaint?”
“It’s a compliment.” She pulls me down for another kiss. “A very sincere compliment.”
I roll us to our sides, but I don’t let her go. My hand grips her hip, holding her against me, and she doesn’t protest. She settles into my hold like she belongs there.
“I’m not good at this,” I admit.
“At what?”
“Letting go. Being vulnerable. Sharing control.” I press a kiss to her forehead. “But with you, I want to try.”
“You just did.” Her fingers trace patterns on my chest. “And it was perfect.”
“I want to do it again.” I tighten my grip on her.
She laughs, breathless and pleased. “How soon?”
“Whenever you want.” I pull her closer.
She’s quiet for a long moment, and I watch emotions play across her face—satisfaction, affection, and something that might be wonder.
“Ansel?”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you.”
I pull back enough to see her face. “For what?”
“For this. For caring enough to be terrified. For turning your home into a fortress to keep me safe.” Her smile is soft. “For finally stopping long enough to let me in.”
“Remy.” I cup her face, thumb brushing her cheekbone. “You’ve been in since the moment you walked into that conference room and looked at me like I didn’t intimidate you.”
“You did intimidate me.” She laughs. “You still do sometimes.”
“Good.” I kiss her forehead, her nose, her lips. “Someone needs to keep you on your toes.”
“Is that your job now?”
“One of them.” I pull her closer, tucking her against my chest. “Along with keeping you safe, and keeping you satisfied, and keeping you from working through meals.”
“That’s quite a list.”
“I’m very thorough.”
“Yes, you’ve said that, and I’ve noticed.” She yawns, exhaustion finally catching up to her. “But right now, I just want to sleep.”
“Then sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
She’s asleep within minutes, her breathing evening out against my chest.
I should sleep, too. I’ve been awake for over thirty hours, running on adrenaline and coffee. But I can’t stop watching her, can’t stop marveling at the fact that she’s here, in my bed, trusting me.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand. I reach for it carefully, not wanting to disturb Remy.
