Page 11 of King of Envy

I froze.

He’d never touched me before. Ever. He didn’t even shake my hand when we first met.

My muscles instinctively tensed, torn between the impulse to flee and the desire to lean in.

His hand was rough. Strong. But his touch was surprisingly gentle as he rubbed the corner of my mouth.

Then it was gone, and oxygen flooded my lungs like I’d been holding my breath for hours instead of seconds.

I unconsciously touched the same spot he’d brushed. A ghost of warmth lingered.

Vuk’s lips thinned. He wiped his hand on a napkin and tossed the crumpled paper into a nearby trashcan before scribbling something on a fresh napkin.

He pushed it toward me, his eyes cool.

You had frosting on your face.

Right. That made sense.

Heat scalded my neck and chest. What was wrong with me today? Why was I making our interactions into a bigger deal than they were?

Thankfully, Sammy returned at that moment and saved me from responding.

Vuk and I both declined one more glass of champagne. We wrapped up the paperwork, and fifteen minutes later, we were on our way to our hotel.

We’d booked Sammy’s last appointment of the day. The sun was already setting by the time we left, and though we could’ve flown straight back to New York, staying overnight seemed preferable to taking a round-trip cross-continental flight in under twenty-four hours.

I put my body through enough during Fashion Week and unhinged photoshoots, so I tried to let it rest when I could.

“Mr. Ford and Ms. Kidane, welcome to the Winchester,” the front desk agent chirped. I’d given her my ID for check-in, but I’d forgotten to change Jordan’s name on the reservation. Neither Vuk nor I corrected her. “I see here that you’re booked for one night in our Regal Suite. I’m happy to confirm that your room is ready. Here are your keys. The elevators are down the hall to your left. If you need anything at all, please dial zero for the front desk and we’ll be happy to help.”

I sucked in a sharp breath.Shit.

Jordan and I had booked a one-bedroom suite for appearance’s sake. Unfortunately, I’d forgotten to change our sleeping arrangements after Vuk replaced him on the trip.

Beside me, Vuk went rigid.

“Apologies, there’s been a last-minute change in plans. I should’ve mentioned this earlier, but it’s been a long day.” I gave the desk agent a sheepish look. “Can we add an extra suite to our reservation? We—that is, we’d like separate rooms if possible.”

The agent’s smile wavered. “I’m so sorry. The hotel is fully booked. There’s a Riley K. concert this weekend and every hotel in the area is slammed. The Regal Suite is our only availability for the night.But”—she brightened again—“it does have a cot, so it sleeps two. Would that work?”

Vuk’s hands curled into fists on the counter.

I gulped. I hoped he wasn’t imagining strangling me. If we had to share the same room, I wanted to wake up in one piece.

“Miss?” the agent prompted.

“Um.” I glanced at Vuk. One call from him would definitely free up a suite somewhere in the city. Hell, he could buy this entire hotel right now if he felt so inclined. But he hadn’t offered, and I didn’t want to ask. “That does work. Thank you.”

Our suite occupied the top floor of the hotel. It boasted a living room, a dining room, a bedroom with an ensuite marble bath, and yes, a cot.

A very small, flimsy-looking cot.

To be fair, it would’ve been adequate for anyone other than Vuk. The man was six-five and weighed at least two hundred pounds. He could crush that thing between his bare hands.

“You can take the actual bed,” I offered. “I don’t think you’re going to, uh, fit on that.”

I’m not taking the bed.

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