Chapter 7

The first thing I noticed was the weight. It wasn’t heavy, not in a burdensome way, but it was substantial. A solid, warm pressure against my back, a broad chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that had long since slowed from the frantic pace of the night before. I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the filtered light that spilled through the heavy crimson drapes of the opera box. We hadn’t gone home. We hadn’t gone to the fancy hotel near the station. We had stayed right here, in that plush, private sanctuary overlooking the stage, surrounded by the ghosts of arias and the scent of old velvet and expensive perfume. I shifted slightly, trying to wiggle free from the tangle of limbs, but a strong arm tightened around my waist, pulling me flush against his body. “Stay,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through my ribs. His lips brushed the shell of my ear, sending a fresh shiver down my spine despite the lingering warmth of the heavy blankets we’d dragged up from the seats. “Don’t move, baby girl. Just stay right here.” I smiled against his shoulder, inhaling the scent of him—sandalwood, sweat, and