Ava woke to silence.
For one disorienting moment, she thought the night before had been a dream—the kisses, the heat, Ethan’s voice whispering promises and threats against her skin. But then she turned her head, and there he was, stretched across the other side of the bed like a dark angel fallen from grace, his chest bare, his hand resting carelessly against the sheets where her body had been.
Her pulse stuttered.
Careful not to wake him, she slid from the bed and padded across the polished floor, her bare feet whispering against the rug. The air smelled of his cologne, his presence filling every corner of the penthouse like a cage she hadn’t realized she’d stepped into.
She found her clothes crumpled in the corner, tugged them on, and reached for her bag.
“Running again?”
The voice
