Page 178

The door opened, and Soren stepped inside. His dark Henley had been replaced with a black button-down shirt with sleeves rolled to his forearms. She looked him over and noticed the white bandage wrapped around his right hand.

Her eyes widened. "You're hurt."

“I’ll give you two some privacy,” Maria offered, smiling back at Lily on her way out of the room.

He glanced at the bandage as though he'd forgotten it was there. "It's nothing."

"It doesn't look like nothing,” she said.

“I guess I cut my hand when I broke the coffee mug earlier. I’ll live,” he said. His expression remained perfectly straight. "I was having a difficult morning."

Despite everything, she laughed. Soren's mouth twitched, and she noticed it again—that tiny almost-smile. She was beginning to think those were worth more than actual smiles from anyone else.

"You should have your hand looked at,” she insisted.

"I did, and it required three stitches,” he admitted.

Her laughter vanished. "Soren.”

"It isn't serious,” he promised.

"If you needed stitches, then it’s serious."

"It'll heal.”

She stepped closer before she realized what she was doing. "Can I see it?"

For a moment, he didn’t move, and then he slowly offered his hand. She turned it over carefully, mindful of the bandage. His skin was warm, and his fingers were rough with old calluses and scars. Images of him touching all over her body with those strong hands flashed through her mind, and she could feel her cheek’s heat.

"You should let it rest,” she ordered.

"I intend to."

That was a lie—she was sure of it.

"You don't seem like someone who is good at resting."

"I'm not,” he admitted. His eyes met hers. "I'll make an exception."

Something fluttered low in her stomach, and she quickly released his hand before she could think too much about it.

"So—” She looked around the room. "I'm really moving into your bedroom?"

"Yes."

"Do you think that’s a good idea? I mean, what will your staff think?” she asked. Although she was pretty sure that just about everyone who worked for him now knew that she had spent the night in his room.

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

"For you, maybe,” she said.

He took her hand into his uninjured one and pulled her into his body. “I’ve missed you, babygirl,” he whispered.

“I’ve been right here,” she said.

“I know, but you’ve felt distant since our shower this morning.” After spending their morning in bed, they took a shower together, and she hadn’t missed the way that Maria looked at her when they both emerged in the kitchen fresh from their shared shower.

“I just don’t want everyone in the house to know about us—you know⁠—”