We find her in the fourth bedroom sound asleep in our bed.
Fuck.
Long, luscious tresses, as dark as chocolate, fan out against the stark whiteness of the pillow under her head.
Her eyelashes are so long they feather against her cheekbones.Her jaw is perfectly slanted and stunningly feminine.Her lips are pink, full, and, just by the sight of them, soft as satin.
We stare at her face as if we've never seen a beautiful woman before her.And fuck, it's true.Who is this sleeping beauty, really?She may be from the cleaning staff, but from the first sight of her, we've already decided we're going to know everything there is to know about her.
The thin sheet outlines the silhouette of her body.Her breasts would fit into the palms of our huge hands, her waist is tiny, her hips so fucking sexy.
Our breath collectively hitches at the dip the sheet makes between her legs.She's lying on her back with her right leg bent at the knee and her other leg straight.The scent of our soap emanates from her, and fuck if it doesn't smell even better on her.
But that's not all our mystery woman has going for her.In the palm of her hand, entwined with her fingers, is a string of pearls.
Not just any pearls, but our latest acquisition through a private sale that cost us just under a billion dollars.
The pearls were harvested in a tightly controlled environment off the coast of French Polynesia.
Only one species of oyster survives in this heavily restricted atoll.The pearls are naturally uniform in size, leveling up their rarity.The pearls were also the final harvest of the atoll, and nothing like them would ever exist again.They’re worth every dollar we paid to own them.
They're very pretty, the way they glint in the light, shifting from pink to purple.And touching them comes with a certain transcendence even I allowed myself to feel, considering I need everything in black and white and no grays, certainly no pinks and purples.
Is that why she has them in her hand—a billion dollars’ worth of them?Because they're interesting and pretty to look at?
Was she going to steal them, then decided to take a nap first?I can't help the grin that forms on my face, a rare one.
A final exchange of glances between me, Garrison, and Jasper solidifies one thing.
The woman asleep in one of our beds is prettier than any pearl the world could harvest.And fuck it.We don't even know her, and she's turned us into fucking poets.
More importantly, if she's asleep in our bed, we get to keep her, whoever she is.
That’s how it works in our world.
Chapter Four
