Page 166 of Fighting the Pull

He’d just come.

Without thinking, he slid his hand up into her hair.

“Wanna go to Chloe and Judge’s wedding with me?” he asked.

The instant he did, he felt something weird happening to his throat.

As for Elsa, her eyes went wide, then they went warm.

“Seriously?” she whispered.

“Yeah.” His word was gruff.

“When is it?”

“In about six weeks. In Arizona. I can stop here on my way back from that board meeting in Munich. We’ll fly there together.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He nodded. “I’ll get Kayla to get you the details. This is Chloe. There’s a dress code.”

She smiled.

He bent and kissed her shoulder.

Then he reached and tugged the end of the scarf, releasing one of her wrists.

She pushed up to her elbows, then to a hip, freeing her other wrist from the scarf and tossing it over him to the nightstand.

She then snuggled into him.

“That was really fun,” she told him something he knew.

“I’m glad you liked it, sweetheart.”

“You done with me for tonight?”

He nodded. “I’m a little tired.”

“Poor baby. I just got to lay there. You did all the work.”

“Don’t take what I said as a complaint.”

She laughed softly, kissed him the same way, then rolled off the bed.

He knew she was going to put on a nightie. She didn’t like to sleep in the nude.

Now, no panties, that was a different story. She’d put them on if he didn’t say anything. She’d sleep without if he ordered her to.

The length of one of his walls was a massive walk-in closet that lay behind some ridged, opaque-gold sliding panels of glass.

She slid the glass open, and he watched as she pulled a nightgown out of a drawer and tugged it on.

When she reached for panties, he called, “Nope.”

She looked his way.

Smirked.

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