Rowan was awake, pulling Liora closer. His voice was a drowsy murmur against her ear. "Killian?"
Liora gave a hum, letting the subject drop.
"Got a thing tonight with my inner circle. Want to go?" Rowan changed tack without pressing further.
Liora didn't reply. Instead, she bolted upright, her face suddenly serious.
"Unwilling?" His smile stiffened as his eyes darkened, misreading her silence.
"God!" She slapped her thigh in a panic. "All my good outfits are at home. Hold on—I'll have my assistant rush them over." She snatched her phone, all business.
Rowan's fingers closed around her wrist. He finally grinned, tugging her back against his chest. His warm breath fanned her ear, his voice rough with sleep and amusement. "Relax. I had some dresses stashed. Want to go pick your poison?"
