I carried her through the penthouse to my bedroom.
The room was dark except for the city beyond the glass and one lamp burning near the bed. Black wood. Gray bedding. A chair near the window. No audience. No staff. No gold room. No stage.
I set her on her feet beside the bed.
She looked at the mattress, then at me.
I took off my jacket and laid it over the chair. My tie came next. I pulled it loose, watching her watch my hands, then stopped and let the silk hang open around my collar.
“I’m going to undress you slowly,” I said. “Unless you tell me not to.”
Her throat moved. “You say everything out loud.”
“I want no confusion between us.”
Her fingers went to the hem of the sweater.
I caught her hands gently. “Let me.”
She released the fabric.
I lifted the sweater over her head.
Her hair fell around her shoulders in dark waves. Beneath the sweater, she wore nothing but the pale chemise from theauction. She must have put the sweater over it rather than strip fully. The silk lay wrinkled now, straps thin over her shoulders, hem high on her thighs.
I hated it less on her in my room.
No.
I hated what it had been.
I loved that I would be the one to take it off.
Her nipples tightened under the silk.
I looked at her face, not because I didn’t notice, but because she needed to know I saw all of her before I took any part.
“You’re beautiful,” I said.
Her laugh came out uneven. “Don’t make it sound sweet.”
“It isn’t sweet.”
“No?”
“No. It is making me consider whether the auctioneer needs all his teeth.”
Her mouth opened, then curved despite herself. “That’s your compliment?”
“For now.”
“What’s the better one?”
I touched one fingertip to the strap on her shoulder. “That I want to see you wearing diamonds, my shirt, nothing, and my wedding ring. Not because any of it improves you. Because every version would tell the world you’re no longer standing alone.”
The smile faded.
Something raw moved in her eyes.
