Christina’s POV
"What?"
His lips skimd mine. So gentle, barely there.
Then they moved again, this ti with intent.
His hand hovered over my hip, teasing the space between us.
The slower he went, the harder it beca to think straight.
My fingers curled into the sheets.
Air beca a luxury.
Hudson finally pulled back long after my lungs started burning.
He tugged the blanket down slightly, his fingers grazing my shoulder.
The lack of oxygen made feel even drowsier than before. "I’m playing hooky. Let’s sleep more. I’m not going to the office today."
I pressed my face against his chest, curling closer.
He leaned in toward my ear, exhaling sharply.
"You can keep using this bed, but my rates just went up."
I grumbled, "What exactly do you want then?"
In a heartbeat, he rolled on top of .
The mattress dipped beneath him, and when I blinked up, his face was only inches from mine.
His eyes looked darker than usual, almost black.
I could feel the weight of his entire body, every hard inch of him.
The haze vanished instantly.
I pushed my hands against his chest.
"Okay! I’m up! I’m getting up right now! I’m not trying to commandeer your bed, for Goddess’s sake—"
I scrambled free from under him, tripped over the blankets, stumbled to my feet, and darted toward the bathroom.
A second later, the door slamd shut behind .
I heard him laughing.
Akira huffed in my head. You’re such a buzzkill.
"Shut up," I hissed at her.
We both know you wanted to stay exactly where you were.
"Whose side are you on?"
By the ti I went downstairs, it was past noon.
Lunch was already laid out on the table.
Hudson sat across from , cutting into his steak as if he hadn’t just nearly devoured upstairs.
I poked at a cherry tomato, glancing at Geoffrey. "When will the heating be fixed?"
Geoffrey hesitated.
His eyes flickered toward Hudson, who didn’t even pause his chewing.
Geoffrey cleared his throat. "We’re still waiting on so parts, Luna Christina. They need to be shipped from Italy. Possibly a week, perhaps longer."
My fork hit the plate with a loud clatter. "You’re telling the radiators need Italian imports now?"
He nodded. "The heating system is bespoke. It uses a closed radiator loop designed for high-pressure water flow. If the internal pressure regulator isn’t calibrated with original factory parts, the system becos unstable..."
Geoffrey droned on, throwing in five or six terms I didn’t understand.
Sothing about thermostatic valves, bypass manifolds, and—holy shit, was he talking about antifreeze now?
I tuned out after thirty seconds.
My brain imdiately went into panic mode.
Hudson was back. That ant I had to move out of his room.
On paper, we were married.
In reality, we had barely started dating.
Sharing a bed was playing with fire.
Especially with the way he kissed.
What if he decided to take things further?
What if I didn’t have the willpower to say no?
My face heated instantly.
My spoon froze halfway to my mouth.
Hudson scooped so salad onto my plate. "What are you thinking about?"
"What? Nothing." I shook my head too quickly, laughing like an idiot. "Just zoned out."
I looked up and t Geoffrey’s gaze.
He smiled, then imdiately launched back in.
I caught phrases like "family-run factory" and "established in 1907" and sothing about copper industries in northern Italy.
I raised my hands. "Alright, alright, I get it. This isn’t getting fixed anyti soon."
Geoffrey nodded. "Afraid so."
I pushed my chair back. "I’m full. Stuffed, actually. I need to get to the studio, so I should really get going."
I grabbed a napkin, wiped my mouth, and bolted before anyone could stop .
I told them I was heading to the studio, but instead I ended up at Sugar & Whim, cramd into a booth across from Ysolde, a hot cappuccino in hand.
A hotel felt too impersonal.
I wasn’t sure how Hudson would react to that.
Oakwood was out too.
Priya was staying there, and it only had one bedroom.
That left with just one option.
"Can I crash at your place for a few days?" I asked.
Ysolde answered by flicking on the forehead.
"Are you dense? You’re the one who said you wanted to give this relationship a shot. Now the universe hands you romantic lighting and a king-sized bed, and you want to bail?"
I rubbed my temples. "I just—"
"No, shut up. Do you know how many won would kill to be in your position? I used to worry about his exes crawling out of the woodwork. But now he’s made it very clear that he wants you. So stick with it. Stop keeping one foot out the door. For the Goddess’s sake, stop being a coward."
I groaned. "The problem isn’t the bed."
"Right, you’re just afraid of accidentally having sex with your husband."
"Yes."
"Christina."
"I’m serious. If I keep staying in that room, one of us is going to do sothing stupid eventually."
I set down my cup, dropping my gaze.
Just thinking about the last ti he kissed made my cheeks burn.
My knees had nearly given out.
Every nerve had gone wire-tight.
I couldn’t trust myself around that man.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want him.
That was the problem. I wanted him too much.
"We barely function as a normal couple," I muttered. "Sleeping with him now would be... monuntally stupid."
Ysolde swatted on the head again.
"Ouch!"
"Since when did you beco such a prude? You used to be fun. What, a few months of fake marriage and you’re the morality police now?"
"It’s different," I said, rubbing my temple.
"It’s just sex, not a blood oath. You call the shots, not him. From what I know about him, he won’t force you into anything. What are you so afraid of?"
I narrowed my eyes at her.
Sothing felt off.
"Why are you so against coming to your place? Are you hiding a body?"
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