Page 111 of My Real Love Affair

“Morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.

“Morning.”

“You sleep okay?”

“Better than okay.” I turned in his arms to face him. “You?”

“Best sleep I’ve had in years.” His eyes were still half-closed, but he was smiling. “Turns out excellent sex is great for insomnia.”

I laughed. “Is that your professional medical opinion?”

“Absolutely. I’m basically a doctor now.” He pulled me closer, nuzzling into my neck. “Prescription: more of last night.Taken regularly. Side effects include happiness and really good orgasms.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it.”

I did. God help me, I really did.

He kissed me slow and sweet. Morning breath be damned. When he pulled back, he was fully awake. “Hungry?” he asked.

“Starving.”

“Good.” He reached for the phone on the nightstand. “Because I’m about to order us the most decadent breakfast room service has ever seen. And a truckload of coffee.”

He wasn’t kidding. He ordered what sounded like half the menu—eggs benedict, Belgian waffles, fresh fruit, bacon, sausage, pastries, orange juice, coffee. When I tried to tell him it was too much, he just shrugged and said we’d eat what we wanted and leave the rest.

The food arrived twenty minutes later, wheeled in on a cart by a server who was very professionally trying not to notice that we were clearly naked under the sheets. Austin tipped him generously, and then we had a feast spread across the bed.

“This is obscene,” I said, biting into a croissant that was probably the best thing I’d ever tasted. “This whole situation is obscene.”

“Good obscene or bad obscene?”

“The best obscene.” I stole a piece of his bacon. “I could get used to this.”

“That’s the plan.” He poured us both coffee from the French press. “Get you so addicted to luxury hotel breakfasts that you can never leave me.”

“Diabolical.”

“I preferstrategic.”

We ate and talked, watching the rain slow through the windows. The sun started peeking through clouds. Manhattanwas waking up. It was my Cinderella moment. Except it wasn’t midnight. It was seven in the morning and the magical night was over.

My life had gotten very weird. Very wonderful but very weird.

“So,” Austin said, setting down his coffee cup. “About that trip.”

“You were serious about that?”

“Completely serious. I’m going to make some calls, arrange everything.”

I didn’t even know what to say. I knew he was serious, but exactly what did he have in mind? A trip to the Hamptons? Maybe somewhere upstate?

He pointed toward the bathroom. “You should shower. Get ready. We’ll need to leave soon if we want to avoid too many prying eyes in the hotel.”

“Where exactly are you planning to take me?”

“It’s a surprise. But I promise you’ll love it. Excellent weather, complete privacy, and plenty of opportunities for content.” He grinned. “Give Cleo a week off. I’ll be your photographer and personal assistant.”