Page 284 of Reign

My bladder is considerably less romantic.

By the time I finish using the bathroom, I’m standing at the sink brushing my teeth and examining the shirt I cut apart last night.

I took too much fabric from one side. The neckline keeps slipping toward my elbow.

I can fix it.

Probably.

Luciano appears in the doorway behind me.

Bare chest. Mussed hair. Dangerously low joggers.

His eyes find mine in the mirror.

“You got out of bed.”

I pause with the toothbrush in my mouth.

He sounds like I’ve violated a direct order.

I spit into the sink. “I had to pee.”

“You could’ve come back.”

“I’m brushing my teeth.”

“I can see that.”

“Then why are we discussing it?”

He crosses the bathroom and slides an arm around my waist, pulling my back against his chest.

My irritation immediately loses some of its structural integrity.

His mouth touches the side of my neck.

Once.

Then again, slower, beneath my ear.

By the time he kisses my temple, I’m leaning into him, which feels disloyal to every argument I’ve ever started.

“I left you in bed,” he says.

“Yes, and then I experienced a normal bodily function.”

“I came back, and you were gone.”

“I traveled all the way to the adjoining bathroom. It was harrowing.”

His hand spreads over my stomach.

“You should’ve waited.”

I stare at his reflection. “For you to escort me to the toilet?”

He almost smiles against my temple.