Rege stood quietly for a moment.
The morning sunlight danced across Maya's loose hair as the breeze moved softly around them. The oversized navy sweatshirt she wore slipped slightly against her shoulder, making her look impossibly relaxed and completely unaware of the effect she was having on him.
His gaze lingered.
As it always did.
Carefully, he reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
The simple gesture felt far more intimate than it should have.
Maya's breath caught.
His fingers brushed her skin for only a second, but warmth spread through her chest immediately.
Rege's eyes softened.
"Come, Krasota."
His voice was low.
Gentle.
The kind of voice that made her heart behave irrationally.
Before she could respond, his hand found hers.
Firm.
Warm.
Protective.
Never demanding.
Never possessive.
Simply there.
As though holding her hand was the most natural thing in the world.
Maya glanced down briefly.
For some reason, that small detail affected her more than the rooftop date had.
The fact that he reached for her automatically.
The fact that he never seemed hesitant anymore.
The fact that she never wanted to pull away.
Together they made their way down the private staircase leading from the rooftop.
The city slowly disappeared behind them.
The cool morning air gave way to the warmth of the penthouse.
Floor-to-ceiling windows filled the space with golden sunlight.
The skyline stretched endlessly beyond the glass.
Sophisticated.
Elegant.
Quiet.
Yet somehow the place no longer felt intimidating to Maya.
It felt familiar.
Like somewhere she belonged.
Or perhaps...
Someone she belonged beside.
The thought startled her.
She quickly pushed it away.
Rege led her toward the kitchen.
The moment they entered, Maya stopped.
Her eyes widened instantly.
"Oh."
The large marble island in the center of the kitchen was covered with neatly arranged breakfast boxes and coffee cups.
Little Collins.
Her favorite.
Her entire face lit up.
The transformation was immediate.
Rege watched it happen.
And felt absurdly satisfied.
Because nothing made him happier than seeing her smile.
Maya moved closer.
Almost bouncing.
"Little Collins?"
She turned toward him.
Genuine surprise filled her eyes.
"How did you know I love their breakfast?"
Rege leaned casually against the counter.
His gaze settled on her face.
He noticed everything.
The curiosity.
The excitement.
The way her eyes sparkled whenever she talked about something she loved.
Especially those eyes.
God.
Those eyes.
He would spend the rest of his life looking at them if given the opportunity.
A faint smile touched his lips.
Maya blinked.
His smile deepened slightly.
Realization immediately flooded her expression.
Of course.
She had probably mentioned it casually.
One random conversation.
One insignificant comment.
One detail she barely remembered sharing.
Yet somehow he remembered.
Her cheeks warmed instantly.
She looked away.
Suddenly very interested in the coffee cups.
A strange feeling settled inside her chest.
Soft.
Comforting.
Cherished.
Because Rege listened.
Not politely.
Not selectively.
He listened as though every word she said mattered.
As though every piece of her was worth remembering.
The realization made her smile to herself.
Rege watched the smile appear.
And felt something inside him soften.
Again.
It happened far too often around her.
Without another word, he began preparing breakfast.
He removed plates from the cabinet.
Arranged cutlery.
Transferred everything neatly from the takeaway containers.
Maya stood nearby watching.
She wasn't entirely sure why.
Perhaps because she liked watching him.
Perhaps because domestic moments with him felt unexpectedly precious.
Or perhaps because every version of Rege fascinated her.
Not the billionaire.
Not the intimidating businessman.
Not the man everyone feared.
Just Rege.
Standing in a kitchen.
Preparing breakfast.
For her.
When everything was ready, he placed a plate in front of her.
Then pulled out one of the stools.
Maya laughed softly.
She sat down.
Trying very hard not to smile.
Failing completely.
The kitchen settled into comfortable silence.
The kind that existed only between people who genuinely enjoyed each other's company.
Sunlight streamed through the windows.
Coffee filled the air with warmth.
The city glittered beyond the glass.
Every now and then Maya glanced toward him.
And every single time—
his eyes were already on her.
The first time made her blush.
The second time made her smile.
The third time made her nearly choke on her coffee.
Rege chuckled quietly.
The sound was warm.
Rich.
Dangerously attractive.
Maya looked away immediately.
A faint blush spreading across her cheeks once again.
His amusement only deepened.
God.
She was adorable.
And she had absolutely no idea.
By the time breakfast ended, Maya automatically reached for her plate.
Rege reached for it first.
She sighed dramatically.
Maya narrowed her eyes.
"You are impossible."
She immediately recognized her own words from the rooftop.
His faint smirk confirmed he remembered them too.
Maya groaned.
Defeated.
Again.
Because arguing with Rege was pointless.
He always won.
Not because he forced his way.
But because his determination was impossible to overcome.
Eventually she surrendered and simply stood beside him while he washed the dishes.
The sound of running water filled the room.
The domestic simplicity of the moment felt strangely intimate.
Comfortable.
Dangerously comfortable.
Maya rested one elbow against the counter.
"What time are we leaving for dinner?"
Rege glanced toward her briefly.
"Anytime."
Maya immediately rolled her eyes.
"That's not an answer."
A faint smile threatened his lips.
Maya pointed accusingly at him.
"I need an actual time."
"So I can get ready."
His attention shifted back toward her.
"You have hours."
"That's not the point."
"What is the point?"
Maya sighed dramatically.
"I don't want to waste your time."
The words left her mouth casually.
The effect on Rege was immediate.
His jaw tightened.
His movements slowed.
Something cold settled inside his chest.
Waste his time?
Maya?
Impossible.
The idea itself felt absurd.
The world could keep him waiting for years and he wouldn't care.
But Maya?
The world should wait for her.
Not the other way around.
He dried his hands slowly.
Then turned toward her completely.
His expression unexpectedly serious.
"You're never a waste of time, Krasota."
The sincerity in his voice stole her next response.
For a second she simply stared.
Because he meant it.
Every word.
Maya felt warmth spread through her chest.
She rolled her eyes mostly to hide it.
"You never think I'm wrong."
A laugh escaped her.
"That's not how the world works."
"It should."
Their eyes met.
The smile slowly faded from her face.
Not because she was unhappy.
Because suddenly the moment felt too real.
Too honest.
"I want to be on time."
Her voice softened.
"For your family."
His gaze remained steady.
Unwavering.
"I don't care about that."
The answer came immediately.
Without hesitation.
Without thought.
Maya's breath caught.
Because somehow she knew exactly what he meant.
He wasn't worried about impressions.
Or schedules.
Or etiquette.
He was worried about her.
Only her.
"For my sake?" she asked quietly.
Rege held her gaze.
Then nodded once.
"Okay."
Relief immediately appeared on her face.
A beautiful smile followed.
One that nearly destroyed his remaining restraint.
"I'll pick you up."
Maya smiled triumphantly.
As though she had accomplished something difficult.
Rege found the expression ridiculously endearing.
Maya's triumphant smile lingered for only a moment before she looked away.
The expression in Rege's eyes was becoming increasingly dangerous to her peace of mind.
And judging by the tightness in her chest, she was becoming equally dangerous to her own.
She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear unnecessarily.
Anything to give herself something to focus on besides the man standing a few feet away.
Besides the fact that every second she spent around him seemed to make leaving harder.
Her heartbeat refused to settle.
It had been refusing to settle since the rooftop.
Since his arms around her.
Since waking up beside him.
Since that smile this morning.
Since him looking at her as though she was the only thing worth looking at.
Maya released a quiet breath.
"As much as I would love to stay here and finish my cakes..."
Her voice softened.
The words sounding suspiciously close to a confession.
She glanced toward the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Manhattan.
Morning sunlight poured through the glass, illuminating the penthouse in warm gold.
The city stretched endlessly beyond it.
Busy.
Alive.
Moving forward.
Unlike her.
Because she suddenly felt very reluctant to move anywhere at all.
"...I need to go home and get myself together for dinner."
The words sounded responsible.
Reasonable.
Necessary.
None of which made her want to leave any more than before.
Her eyes wandered everywhere except toward him.
The marble countertops.
The coffee machine.
The skyline.
The half-finished pastries.
Anywhere.
Everywhere.
Just not him.
Because every time she looked at him lately, she forgot what she was trying to say.
Rege watched her quietly.
His gaze lingered on her face.
On the faint blush still colouring her cheeks.
On the oversized sweatshirt swallowing her whole.
On the way she refused to meet his eyes.
He knew exactly why.
Because he was struggling with the same thing.
The truth was simple.
He did not want her to leave.
Not yet.
Not in an hour.
Not in five minutes.
The realization should have concerned him.
Instead, it settled heavily inside his chest.
Comfortable.
Permanent.
Dangerous.
He found himself memorizing the moment.
The morning sunlight in her hair.
The softness in her voice.
The way she stood in his kitchen as though she belonged there.
The way the space already felt emptier at the mere mention of her leaving.
His jaw tightened slightly.
Because he was beginning to understand something he had spent weeks trying not to understand.
He could spend an entire day with Maya.
And still want more time.
Maya finally risked a glance upward.
Their eyes met.
Immediately.
The impact stole her breath.
Again.
How was that even possible?
One look.
One stupid look.
And suddenly she was struggling to remember why she had decided leaving was a good idea.
The silence stretched between them.
Comfortable.
Tender.
Dangerously intimate.
Neither moved.
Neither seemed eager to be the first person to break it.
Finally Maya smiled softly.
A smile that felt more vulnerable than she intended.
Rege stared at her for another second.
Then finally nodded.
Slowly.
Reluctantly.
As though he too disliked the idea of ending the morning.
Then reached for her hand again.
Naturally.
Instinctively.
As though there had never been any other option.
And Maya let him.
Just as naturally.
Neither acknowledging how much that meant.
Neither acknowledging how impossible it would have felt only weeks ago.
Together they left the kitchen.
Neither speaking.
Neither needing to.
Because the silence between them no longer felt empty.
It felt full of everything neither was quite ready to say.