Page 79 of Milo

He stayed.

Or he came back.

Either way, his presence makes my heart flutter. An electric buzz spreads through my body as I study him carefully, slowly, with mild gratitude and major yearning.

Dressed in a three-piece light grey suit – a change from his usual all-black attire – Milo holds a folded-up newspaper in his left hand, his groomed brows knitted together in concentration. The tip of a fountain pen rests on the corner of his plump lips.

It's hard not to admire the man who somehow managed to bring me back to life.

I trace the curves of his masculine nose, his sculpted jawline, his wide shoulders, his long slender fingers, his ankle that's hiked over his thigh, his bouncing foot.

There is nothing I would change about the unearthly gorgeous man in front of me.

Aside from his profession.

And his spotty morals.

Yet, as he scribbles down answers to what I can only assume is a crossword puzzle, he doesn't look evil. He looks like a man.

A man that's making me question my principles. A man that's shaken my foundation. A man that's shifted the ground beneath my feet.

A man I know I should despise.

But I don't.

Not even a little.

"Are you finished staring?"

His voice startles me, my cheeks flushing from embarrassment as his dark gaze flickers in my direction. Compared to the beast that warped my entire perception of what constitutes good sex, the soft glow of humor in his eyes makes him look so tame, so fucking docile.

When I don't respond, his lips curl up into a knowing smirk. "Good morning, bella."

"Morning.” I sit up and rest against the headboard. My belly stirs as he licks his lips. "What uh—what time is it?"

"It is almost 1 p.m." Milo lowers the newspaper to his lap, uncrossing his legs. He twists the pen between his fingers. "I did not want to wake you. I figured after last night...you needed the sleep."

I slept through the whole night? Wow. He literally fucked me into a coma.

"How long have you uh—" I swallow, my breathing uneven as fragments of our chaotic, violent, euphoric act flash through my mind. Holy hell. I clear my throat, my mouth dry. "How long have you been sitting there?"

"Not long." He expels a rich low chuckle as he cocks his head to the side. "I had several meetings this morning, but I returned as soon as I could."

"Oh." I let out a hum of understanding, a half-smile on my face.

Meetings? About what?

The air between us is charged, heavy with heated memories, with the uncertainty of what happens next. He's guarded. I'm apprehensive. He's cautious. I'm wary.

He's smoldering. And I'm on fucking fire.

Controlling his facial expression, Milo nods to a silver tray on the console table. "Would you like some coffee? It's fresh. Luisa just brought it up."

I blink. Luisa brought it up? To my room? With Milo here? She knows. She must know we—Oh crap. This might not go over well with the family. But I mean, it's just sex.

It's not like...

"Kiara?"

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