“No, take us toThe Inferno.”
Our hands had been practically glued together since we left the rest stop, and I squeezed his in question. “The Inferno?”
He was trying hard to play it cool, but a boyish smile broke through his tough defenses. “I booked us a suite. I don’t want to see anybody but you for… well, I’d be good with forever, but I told my dad I was officially off for the next week.”
He leaned in closer, whispering in my ear. “And we’ll just do whatever you want. There’s no expectations from me. I only want you to be comfortable and happy.”
My eyes widened, pulse quickening as I thought through his proposal. A whole week ofwhateverI wanted to do?
“I want books, a computer, pancakes, hot chips, soda, sweatpants, coffee with way too much cream and sugar, and—”
Ronan laughed, kissing me on the top of my head. “Consider it done.”
He then took out his phone and immediately began ordering everything I’d just listed to be delivered no-contact outside our door.
He wasn’t kidding when he’d said that he didn’t want to see anybody but me.
And he’d even checked in right before he’d come to Noctis, which meant we only needed to take the private elevator up to the room, no speaking to staff necessary. I waved goodbye to Kurai as we stepped inside, and as soon as the doors shut, it was just me and Ronan, for a whole week.
I collapsed into him, burrowing my face into his chest.
“You smell like smoke,” I said.
His hand wrapped around my shoulders, and he laughed. “Occupational hazard, I’m afraid.”
I was a little nervous about what I’d see when the door opened. Being this high up, I was already getting flashbacks to the stark, cold penthouse where Victor had kept me prisoner.
But Ignareth wasn’t exactly known for being subtle. What if it was a gaudy nightmare like the Premier’s Mansion?
Cold sweat ran down my back as the room revealed itself to me, and I stopped, surveying the space before stepping into the threshold.
To my surprise, the suite didn’t feel like a showcase or a prison—it felt downright homey. Warm amber lights glowed from recessed fixtures instead of glaring down, and the gold was softened by dark wood and worn leather that invited you to sink in rather than stand at attention. A massive couch was piled with too many pillows, a throw blanket slung carelessly over the back like someone had actually used it.
Based on the pile of shopping bags Ronan had left here, it probably had been—by him.
The air smelled richly of coffee, tea, and clean linen instead of antiseptic, blood, and cologne. Even the city beyond the windows felt distant here, muffled by thick glass and heavy curtains. It wasn’t empty, and it wasn’t overflowing.
My shoulders loosened without me telling them to, and I breathed easier than I had in years. Even during my brief escape, I’d never allowed myself to feel too comfortable.
This was… safe.
Ronan watched me carefully. “We can get a different room if this is too triggering. I was worried it might remind you of—”
I put a finger on his lips to stop him before he got started again. “It’s perfect.”
He smiled, gently taking my wrist and leading me to the sofa. “I may have already gotten you some things. I had to go on hunches, and info I got while tracking—”
“Stalking.”
He rolled his eyes playfully. “Stalkingyou.”
I grabbed the first bag, my hands trembling as they made their way through the tissue.
Please don’t be lingerie.
But I didn’t feel silk, satin, or lace under my fingertips. It was soft, warm.
Flannel.
