Sloane woke before sunrise, still tangled in the lingering warmth of last night. The penthouse was silent, the city stretching below them in a sea of lights beginning to dim as the early morning glow took over.
She lay still for a moment, processing what had happened.
Vincent had kissed her. She had kissed him back.
And worse... she wanted it.
Sloane exhaled, turning onto her side. The other half of the bed was empty. Of course, it was.
Vincent was never the type to linger.
She pushed off the sheets and slipped out of bed, grabbing a silk robe as she made her way toward the living area. The faint scent of coffee drifted through the space, leading her toward the open kitchen.
And there he was.
Vincent stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, a fresh cup of coffee in hand, dressed in dark slacks and an unbuttoned white shirt. He looked far too composed for someone who had kissed her senseless just hours ago.
He didn't turn when he spoke. "Didn't think you'd sleep in."
