The next morning, Cassie walked into the penthouse kitchen barefoot, still yawning, her hair tied in a messy bun and one of the guest robes draped loosely around her. The smell of fresh coffee filled the air, but the gleaming countertops and polished marble floors made it feel more like a hotel lobby than a place where people actually lived.
Luke was already seated at the breakfast bar, dressed in another crisp shirt with his sleeves rolled up. A tablet rested beside his coffee, and a sheet of paper lay flat in front of him.
He looked up, eyes trailing over her briefly before returning to his screen. “Sleep well?”
Cassie reached for the coffee pot. “As well as anyone can while being stalked by tabloids.”
Luke didn’t look up. “Good. We need to talk.”
Cassie poured herself a mug and lea
