Gregory's POV
Artemis stood on the balcony in an oversized white shirt and boyshorts, the fabric hanging off her in a way that made her look effortlessly soft—almost unreal. I had just stepped out of the shower, towel still around my waist, and even now I had to mentally remind myself that this wasn't a dream.
I married her.
Artemis was my wife.
The love of my life.
I walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her against my chest. She stiffened for half a second before relaxing into me, as if her body already knew it belonged there.
She wasn't wearing anything beneath the shirt.
And God—she smelled like roses, sweet and warm, like something I could drown in.
I pressed my lips to her neck, unable to stop myself. One kiss became another, then another, until she let out a quiet sound that made my control unravel.
"Greg…" she breathed.
