ROWAN CARTER
I didn't realize how long I’ve been staring at the same paragraph. The numbers blurred slightly on the screen, though I was not reading them anymore. I was thinking.
Freya shifted beside me. Then her eyes opened.
For a split second, she looked disoriented , then she focused on me. I was sitting against the headboard, laptop balanced on my thigh, suit jacket discarded somewhere near the foot of the bed. The cabin lights were dimmed to a warm glow.
“You’re still working?” she murmured, voice thick with sleep.
“Work does not get done itself,” I reply without looking up immediately. That wasn't entirely untrue. I have piles of work to do . But that wasn't the reason I was not able to close my eyes.
She stretched slightly, the blanket sliding down her shoulder again, and w
