Later, I’m bathed and dressed, white shirt, black pants, sleeves rolled halfway. The soft breeze seeps through the windows as I go over tonight’s schedule. There’s still business to handle.
A knock comes at the door. Niko steps in, gives me a look, then shakes his head. “Not done yet, then.”
I arch a brow. “You talked with her?”
He nods, tugging open his suit jacket. His shirt underneath is wrinkled. My brow lifts higher. “Really?”
A pleased grin tugs at his mouth. “Damn near threw me on my back,” he says. “Her training’s paying off.”
“Claire doesn’t do physical,” I say, adjusting my cuffs. Well, lately, she’s been doing physical a lot more since Niko started giving her fighting lessons. I haven’t decided if she actually needs it, not with over a dozen guards assigned to protect her a
