Because some part of me was terrified I’d never get another chance.

The way she’d tensed as soon as it was done told me how dangerously close I was to that being the case.

Somehow, though, I’d convinced her to stay.

Eventually, she even melted against me as my arms held her. Then, slowly, as my fingers skimmed over her, she drifted off to sleep.

And she slept like the dead for seven straight hours.

I’d been with her most of that time.

But my own internal clock insisted on getting up around five. When I would usually head off to the gym.

Instead, I slipped out of bed to shower and make coffee.

As I walked back into the bedroom with two mugs, I froze.

And it came rushing back again with painful clarity.

She was lying to me.

The morning light spilled over her naked body, making need stir again. Until my gaze went to her hair.

It had never been a trick of light.

Her hair was blue.

It had been dark the night before, and whatever temporary dye she used was still there in part, but in the harsh morning sun, the strands were more blue than brown.

My hands tightened on the mug handles, a strange churning sensation moving through my stomach.

I despised being lied to professionally.

But things with Saff had never been strictly professional.

Being lied to personally was a whole different kind of terrain. And I didn’t have the right boots, compass, or skills to navigate it.

I did know one thing, though.

Saff was not going to let me grill her for more information. Not if I wanted to be able to have her in my life.

And, after last night, there was no denying that I did.

Almost desperately.

Not wanting to wake her, I set the mug on the nightstand beside her, then made my way back downstairs, where my phone was ringing on the kitchen counter where I left it.

Teresa. Of course. Who else would it be?

“Hey, T. What’s up?”

“What’s up? I thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere.”

“This is Manhattan. We don’t have ditches,” I said, smiling.

“Fell in an open manhole cover. Pushed onto the tracks. Shanked and left for dead in Central Park.”

“Little dark there,” I said, letting out a huff of a laugh.

“My point is. I’m here. You’re not. What’s up with that?”

“I slept in.”

“You… you slept in?” she asked, astonishment clear in her voice. Then, “Oooh, you slept in. Well, good for you. A man shouldn’t spend all his nights alone. It’s not natural. So, who is it?”

“T…”

“Oh,” she said, tone suddenly more clipped. “It’s her, isn’t it?”

“Dunno who you’re talking about.” I poured myself another cup of coffee, wondering why Teresa would be so cold about Saff all of a sudden.