Rowan stays on the bed, his mouth curving into a lazy smile. “She’s aware of what a Heat is, precious. You’re not corrupting her innocence.”
“Not the point.” I snatch a T-shirt from the floor, sniffing it before discarding it with a grimace. The garment reeks of sweat and sex. “Where are my clean clothes?”
I yank open a dresser drawer, rifling through itscontents while keeping one ear tuned to Lena’s movements in the apartment. My hands shake with an urgency I can’t quite explain.
It’s not shame exactly. Lena knows what Heat means biologically, but the thought of her seeing the physical evidence, the marks of possession scattered across my skin, crosses a line of vulnerability I’m not ready to reveal. As if her seeing my loss of control will somehow lessen me in her mind.
“Closet,” Rowan offers, stretching with a languid ripple of muscles on the bed. “Left side, second shelf. I had the laundry service bring fresh clothes yesterday.”
I lurch toward the closet, yanking the door open hard enough for it to bounce off the wall. True to his word, a stack of folded clothes waits on the second shelf. I grab a turtleneck to hide the worst of the bruises on my neck and a pair of sweatpants.
“You’re cute when you’re flustered.” Rowan rises from the bed, unselfconscious in his nudity.
His skin bears its own constellation of scratches down his back and bite marks on his shoulders as proof that my passion matched his.
“Shut up and help me.” I hop on one foot, struggling to get my leg through the sweatpants.
Rowan crosses the room, his warmth surrounding me as he places a steadying hand on my waist.
“I could get used to this,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of my ear.
“Used to what?” I tug the turtleneck over my head, the soft fabric sliding down to cover the evidence of our three-day frenzy.
“You.” His palm flattens over my stomach, pulling me back against his chest. “No walls. No masks. Just you, precious.”
The words sink through my defenses, warm and dangerous. With anyone else, I would stiffen, pull away, and rebuild the barriers that keep me safe. With Rowan, I let myself lean into his touch for several heartbeats before reality intrudes.
“Lena’s waiting.” I step out of his embrace, running fingers through my tangled hair in a futile attempt at order. “Can you distract her while I finish getting decent?”
Rowan huffs a laugh, reaching for his own discarded pants. “Fine. But this conversation isn’t over.”
I watch him dress, his body a landscape I’ve spent three days mapping with my hands and mouth. When he’s presentable, he moves to the cracked door, pausing with his hand on the knob.
“Take your time, precious.” His tongue sweeps over his bottom lip in appreciation as he watches me. “You’re beautiful even when you’re panicking.”
Heat burns my cheeks at the praise, but he’s gone before I can form a retort, the bedroom door clicking shut behind him.
I finish dressing, running a quick hand through my hair again. My reflection in the mirror shows a man I barely recognize, with flushed cheeks, kiss-swollen lips, and eyes bright despite the exhaustion lurking behind them.
Three days of Heat have stripped away more than physical energy. They’ve peeled back layers I’ve spent years reinforcing.
As I take in the destroyed bed, Rowan’s tablet on the nightstand catches my attention, and I remember the upcoming job I’d been prepping for before my Heat hit.
I lost three days, but I’m pretty confident that I have the details down. I should check the schematics one more time, though, to ensure I haven’t missed anything in my preparation.
I cross to the nightstand and pick up the device, tapping in the passcode Rowan shared weeks ago. The screen unlocks, displaying his home screen with its minimalist layout. I select the secure folder wherewe’ve kept all the planning documents, blueprints, and security details for the Harmon job.
The folder opens, but instead of the familiar list of files, an empty screen greets me. My stomach drops as I pull up the search function, entering “Harmon” into the field.
No results.
I check the main document folder, thinking maybe they were moved.
Nothing.
The photo gallery, in case the blueprints were saved as images.
Nothing.
