“The penthouse, Dante.” Ivan widens his arms. “It’s impenetrable. I can lock this baby down, and no one can leave or enter without my express consent.”
I scan my eyes over the place, taking note of all the windows that provide such an extravagant view. “Not even through those?” I ask, pointing to them.
“Not even through those,” Ivan replies with a smirk. “Do you really think I’d allow any stone left unturned when this penthouse was designed? It’s a fortress for a reason.”
“All right,” I concede with a nod. “But I’ll still keep the building under heavy guard.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He stifles a yawn.
Without thought, I reach over and hug him tightly. “Thanks for working through the night. Get home and rest.” I pull away, my brow furrowing with a new thought. “Maybe you and Maddy should stay here while we’re gone.”
“Eh, maybe.” He shrugs. “We’ll talk before you leave in the morning.”
“Sounds good.”
As Ivan makes his way to the elevator, I head to the kitchen. Since I’m up, I might as well make myself useful by reminding Piper I can be thoughtful. I’ve tried this shit before and it wasn’t very successful due to interfering relatives, but maybe this time can be different.
I work on freshly squeezed orange juice in between making omelets and toasted buttery brioche. Once everything is done, I grab a wooden tray and load the two plates along with two glasses of juice. Just as I go to lift it, the flower arrangement on the bar causes me to pause, and I look through the cabinet for something vase-like. When I’m satisfied with the vessel, I add water and turn to the bar to select the perfect bloom.
The clearing of Piper’s throat nearly causes me to jump out of my skin. Not jump in a scared way—I’m never scared—but I somehow feel like I’ve been caught with my hand in the cookie jar. The romantic cookie jar, and that’s not really me.
I gather myself and turn to her, my eyes greedily taking in her long bare legs. She’s wearing one of my shirts with only two of the buttons closed, exposing way too much fucking skin and not enough at the same time.
“Good morning,” I say when I finally drag my eyes to hers. “I was just about to wake you.” I motion to the tray of food still sitting by the stove.
“Smells good,” she says, barely offering it a glance. “But I’m not really hungry.” She takes a slow step closer, and her eyes are fucking predatory. Lucky for her, I’m willing-ass prey. “For food, that is.”
I toss the knife and flower to the floor and go to her, skimming my hands beneath the shirt to her bare ass beneath. With a fucking growl, I lift her and pivot to the bar, my mind recalling an eerily similar scene—except this time, there’ll be no interruption. The buttons scatter across the marble as I rip open her shirt, and my robe falls limp at my sides as her fingers tug the tie.
Fuck the food.
Two hours later, we’re finally settled at the bar, eating cold toast and drinking lukewarm orange juice. Our scant clothing is back in place, and my eyes constantly trail to the swell of Piper’s fucking gorgeous tits. The morning is almost perfect, and I can’t wait to get this goddamn war behind us so every day can start this way.
“What has you thinking so hard?” Piper asks, trailing her finger across my thigh, just past the edge of my robe.
I grab her hand to prevent her from roaming too close—not that I couldn’t go again—and give her a crooked grin. “I was actually thinking about the future. How I want every morning to be like this one.”
“But?” she prompts, angling toward me, which causes her shirt to reveal more of her left tit since it’s only buttoned at the bottom.
“You’re very insightful.” I shake my head, my grin lifting into a smirk. “That future’s not truly feasible until the threat has been eliminated.”
“Ahh,” she murmurs, leaning close to whisper in my ear. “I’ll still be here long after the threat has been wiped from existence.” Her teeth latch on to my lobe and she tugs, sending a growl from my lips and a twitch beneath my robe.
“Fuck!” I grab her head and attack her neck, my lips, tongue, and teeth seeking to take control and conquer.
Just as I’m ready to rip her shirt open a second time, the fucking house phone rings through the sound system, causing my head to drop against her shoulder in defeat.
“Ignore it,” she pants, attempting to guide my lips to hers.
“I can’t,” I mutter, pulling back to look into her dark eyes. “House calls are always important.”
As I get up to answer the phone, she seeks to tidy her errant clothes as best she can. “This better be fucking important,” I bark into the line.
“Boss,” Parks says. “I’m in the lobby with the information you requested.”
“Why didn’t you call my cell?” I demand, my eyes straying to Piper as she stands and approaches me with concern.
“I did,” he replies. “Several times.”
“Fine,” I snap, motioning her closer. “I’ll send the elevator down.” I hit the off button and take Piper in my arms. “That was Parks. He’s delivering urgent information before the meeting tomorrow. Why don’t you get dressed? I’ll be in as soon as he leaves to show you what clothes I’ll need packed for the trip. The rest of my day will likely be spent in my office.”
She nods, lifting her head, and her eyes are
