Late afternoon sunlight poured through the floor to ceiling windows. Central Park spread out like a painting below them, the skyline of the West Side rising beyond.
The two of them began to explore the condo, walking through an arched doorway into the kitchen. It had marble countertops and a six-burner stove. Copper pots hung from a rack over a center island.
They then explored the master bedroom. It had a king-sized bed with a gray upholstered headboard and was covered in white linens.
The master bath had white subway tiles and a soaking tub that looked deep enough to sit inside.
“That… looks like heaven,” Siren said, staring at the tub.
“You should take a bath,” he said.
“You’re hurt. You should go first.”
“We could take it together,” he suggested, hoping she’d agree.
“Sounds good,” she said, starting the water.
He heard a knock at the door. “They must have brought over our things,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
He hurried to the front door and found a third agent with their bags. Reed helped the man carry their things inside, storing them inside the front door.
When he returned to the bathroom, the bath was nearly full. Siren was stripping out of her clothes. She tossed her leatherjacket on the counter. Pulled her shirt over her head and kicked off her jeans. Reed watched her, still amazed that this woman was his mate. That fate had brought them together through violence and conspiracy and fear.
She caught him staring. “Are you going to get in?”
He started to pull off his clothes, checking the bandage. The suture strips were still holding, and the flesh beneath was in the process of knitting together. In another day, he’d be completely healed.
Siren had already climbed into the tub, her dark hair wet around her shoulders.
“Come on in,” she said, holding out her hand. “The water’s great.”
He accepted her hand and climbed in beside her. The hot water enveloped him, easing the ache in his muscles. He let out a long breath, resting his head against the side of the tub.
“You’re wound healing okay?” she asked, her voice softer than usual.
“Should be fully repaired soon.”
“Good,” she breathed, her head tilted back, her eyes closed.
They sat in silence, the water lapping gently against the sides of the tub.
“How long do you think it will take Kate’s team to get them?” Reed asked, running a bar of soap under his arms.
“The evidence is solid. It really depends on the judge issuing the arrest warrant.”
“I’m so glad we finally got the bastards,” he whispered.
“Yeah. Me too. This whole thing… I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you,” she said.
She leaned over and kissed his cheek. He reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together in the water.
They soaked in the tub for a long time before washing and rinsing each other’s hair and finally getting out. They dressed in the fluffy robes on the back of the bathroom door, tossed their dirty clothes in the washing machine in the hall, and found matching sets of oversized sweatsuits in the bedroom.
The fabric was so luxurious and soft that neither of them minded that they were several sizes too large. They also found fluffy socks and padded around the kitchen looking for something to eat. Reed started the kettle for tea while Siren suggested they make their security team get them some take out.
They finally agreed on classic New York pizza and gave their order to the agents outside the door. Forty minutes later they had their order.
They sat together on the sectional, and Reed put on a romcom on the big screen. Siren sat beside him under a plush blanket, her legs tucked up beneath her.
