"I did," Tang Fei admitted, the honesty coming easier than she expected. She shifted, the Egyptian cotton whispering against her skin, and felt the residual ache in her thighs, the pleasant heaviness that still lingered between them. "But if I stay in this bed any longer, I might actually become part of the mattress. They'll probably find me centuries from now, perfectly preserved beneath expensive sheets."
His laugh was low and unrestrained, rolling through the quiet suite. He set his coffee on the low table with a soft click of porcelain against wood, then rose and crossed the short distance to the bed.
The mattress dipped under his weight as he sat beside her. One hand came up, long fingers sliding along the line of her jaw until his palm cupped her cheek with a care that still surprised her. His thumb brushed the high point of her cheekbone, slow and deliberate.
"Good morning," he murmured.
