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“I don’t give a fuck what everyone knows about us,” he interrupted. “Wait—that’s a lie. I want everyone to know exactly what happened between us last night, babygirl. I’m not sorry for what happened this morning, are you?”
The words shouldn't have affected her, but they did. “Do you want me to move into your room because you want to keep me safe, or because you want me with you, Soren?” she asked.
He sealed his mouth over hers, and when he finished kissing her, he left her panting for air and wondering what the hell had just happened. “Both,” he said, gently kissing her forehead.
“Oh,” she breathed.
“I was going to ask you to move into my room either way, but our intruder forced my hand. I won’t apologize for being happy that you’ll be in my bed from here on out, babygirl.” He grabbed her bags off the bed and walked to the door. “Now, let’s get you settled in our room, and then, maybe you can convince me to rest.” He bobbed his eyebrows at her, making her giggle.
"I can carry my own luggage,” she offered. “You shouldn’t be using that hand.”
"I know, but I’ve got it,” he said.
"If you know that you shouldn’t be using your hand, then why aren't you letting me carry my bags?"
"Because my hand still works,” he said.
She rolled her eyes. "You're impossible."
"So I've been told." His bedroom somehow felt different during the day. The rain had stopped, allowing sunlight to spill across the hardwood floors. The room was masculine without feeling cold, with its dark wood furniture, deep-gray walls, and fireplace. A sitting area beside the window made her want to curl up with a good book and read for hours. And, against one wall, a massive bed she'd already slept in once. She immediately looked away from it, and Soren seemed to notice.
A slow, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Regretting it already?"
Her eyes snapped back to his. "What? No." She felt her cheeks burn. "I was just remembering."
"What exactly were you remembering, babygirl?" he asked.
“Oh, you're enjoying this, aren’t you?” she grumbled.
"A little,” he admitted.
She groaned and covered her face with both hands. "I hate you."
"No, you don't."
"No," she admitted through a laugh. "I really don't."
His expression softened, and he carried her overnight bag through the sitting area before stopping in front of a large walk-in closet. "Half of this is yours now."
Lily blinked. "What?"
"Maria will move your clothes later. But she picked you up a few more things and hung them on your side of the closet." She stepped inside and found one entire side of the closet had some new outfits with tags still attached. They looked almost comical hanging beside Soren's meticulously organized wardrobe.
His suits occupied one section, casual clothes in another, and his shoes lined the shelves beneath. Everything was perfectly arranged. Everything except her tiny collection of jeans, sweaters, and T-shirts. They looked completely out of place.
She looked around the enormous closet. "My things don't look like they belong here."
Soren set her bag down and walked over to her until only inches separated them. "They belong wherever you are, and I want you with me.”
Her breath caught. "You own more suits than I own clothes."
"You weren’t able to bring anything with you, but if you need more clothing, we’ll get you some.”
She shook her head. "You really don't care that I have nothing, and you seem to have everything, do you?"
"Lily." His fingers brushed lightly beneath her chin, lifting her gaze to his. "I asked you to move into my room because I wanted you here. I don't usually invite people into my private space."
Something about the way he said it made her realize just how much this meant to him. This wasn't convenience. It wasn't obligation. It wasn't simply about security anymore. Soren was letting her into the one place that belonged only to him.
