It was a beautiful suite, light and airy. I felt like I could live there, high above the city’s rush in my own little world. Riley was gazing out the vast window beside where he sat at a table, a white cloth set with a breakfast spread. My stomach growled, but I froze; Riley looked impossibly gorgeous, and my heart broke at the thought of ruining the moment by launching into the thoughts that had plagued me through my shower. I would give up all the Plaza suites in the world if I could just be worthy of this boy for the rest of my life.

He sensed my presence and looked up—my breath caught in my throat. “Eat,” he ordered, nodding at the chair across from him. I stumbled toward the table and plopped down.

My eyes couldn’t believe the feast before me: eggs, sausage, bacon and potatoes, toast and pancakes, juice and fruit and coffee, all served on silver flatware. I felt like an impostor masquerading as a queen.

Riley didn’t move, didn’t so much as blink. He only stared at me, his face blank. I cleared my throat nervously. The thought then hit me. “The book… the briefcase…”

“They are both safe,” Riley said.

I bit my lip as I glanced back to the bedroom doorway. “There’s only one bed,” I observed. “Where… where did you sleep?”

“I found accommodations,” he said, finally shifting in his seat, running a hand through his still-damp hair. “After last night… the space within these walls would not have been suitable for me. I needed…” he looked at me, his eyes glowing with emerald fire, “more.”

I gulped. Last night… I remembered what he’d done to those cultists.

“Eat,” he repeated.

I noticed there was no place setting on his side of the table. “What about you?” I asked.

He shook his head. “After last night,” he said in an almost dreamily contented tone, “I have no need.”

“So then… all this breakfast is just for me?” I asked.

He stared at me intently, and a long pause followed before he leaned back with widened eyes and flared nostrils and said, “Please, don’t concern yourself with my needs. Enjoy your own sustenance.”

I piled my plate with the eggs, fruit and pancakes. Riley’s gaze followed my movements as I made myself a cup of tea—peppermint, what a comforting relief after everything that had happened. It almost felt like a tether to reality.

Riley’s eyes narrowed as I started on some potatoes. “Does the meat not please you?” he demanded.

“Of course it doesn’t,” I replied. “I’m a vegetarian.”

Riley shook his head. “I don’t understand—yesterday, you ate meat.”

I recalled our dinner at Sardi’s, and smiled indulgently. “That was fish, silly, that doesn’t count.”