LThe night's sleep was the longest Dominic had gotten in ages deep, dreamless, and heavy. Who knew drunk Elena could be such a handful?
At some point during the night, she had kicked off the blanket, then pulled it back again on him. She'd rolled over, mumbled about "corporate spies," slapped his chest mid-dream, then demanded more space only to curl right back into him five minutes later.
By the time morning sunlight slipped through the curtains, Dominic was lying on his back, one arm trapped under Elena's leg, the other pinned beneath her hair. She was sprawled across him like a victorious cat, completely at peace, while he was too tired to move.
He stared at the ceiling, amusement tugging at the corners of his lips. "You, Mrs. Moretti," he whispered, voice rough from sleep, "are chaos in human form."
Elena stirred, eyes still closed. "Hmm… you love it," she mumbled sleepily, her voice muffled against his chest.
