Chapter 11: The Week Is Up

Veronica's POV

I filed the fraud report on Thursday afternoon with a bored detective and a folder of bank statements.

When I got back to the loft, every lamp was lit and the booking dashboard glowed on the drafting table, finished.

Orin stood at the window with his back to me.

"It's been five days," I said.

"Five and a half." He did not turn around. "I'm rounding generously."

"For what?"

"The week's up, Keane."

He turned, and he looked like a man who had been awake for two days.

"I was going to tell you the terms ended," he said. "I was going to say you could stay as long as you want, and nothing would change."

"Is that what you want?"

"No."

The word came out rough, and he did not take it back.

I dropped my bag on the floor. I crossed the room and put both hands flat on his chest.

His heart was pounding under my palms.

"Then say what you want," I said.

"You."

"Now?"

"Whenever you say."

"Now," I said.

I rose on my toes and kissed him.

He was careful for a moment.

Then his hands slid down my back and gripped, and he lifted me off the floor and carried me to the bed behind the bookcase.

He set me on the edge of the mattress and knelt in front of me.

"Lamps stay on," he said.

"All of them."

"I want to see everything."

My sweater went over my head. He kissed the top of my breast through the lace, then lower, slow.

I got my fingers into his hair. "Orin."

He looked up. His eyes were dark, and his mouth was already wet.

"Look at how you shiver for me."

"Don't stop."

He smiled against my stomach. He peeled my jeans down my hips and off, and his mouth followed his hands over my thighs.

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