Page 45 of The Mountain Man's Mail-Order Mafia Princess

She moved her fingers once against my chest. “You’re thinking too loudly.”

“I haven’t said anything.”

“You’re lying there like you expect me to issue a formal complaint.”

“I wasn’t sure what you’d want.”

“That’s a reasonable question. Inventing the answer before I’m awake isn’t.”

She pushed herself onto one elbow. The sheet slipped lower over her hip, and my cock hardened against her thigh.

She smiled. “That part of you seems less confused.”

“It usually is.”

She laughed, then leaned down and kissed me.

The kiss was soft. It still tightened every muscle in my abdomen.

When she pulled back, she kept her gaze on mine and left her hand on my chest.

“I don’t regret last night,” she said. “I’m also not naming whatever this is before breakfast.”

“That wasn’t on my list.”

“Did you have a list?”

“I didn’t.”

“That’s good. I don’t want to compete with imaginary paperwork.”

I touched one curl resting against her shoulder. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m starving.”

“I can make eggs.”

Talia settled against me again. “That’s almost romantic.”

“It’s breakfast.”

“You can pretend it isn’t romantic after coffee.”

She smiled and stayed where she was.

I stayed there with her.

Eventually, hunger got both of us out of bed.

Talia took the bathroom first while I pulled on jeans and a charcoal T-shirt. When she emerged, she wore sleep shorts and the same dark shirt of mine she’d borrowed the first night. Her diamonds and layered gold were back in place, and she’d tied her curls high enough to expose her neck.

She crossed the main room barefoot and opened the refrigerator.

“You have eggs,” she said.

“I said I could make them.”

“You also have cheese, tomatoes, and half an onion.”