Morning light filtered through the tall windows, pale gold on the rumpled sheets. The room still smelled faintly of cedar, honey, and sweat, a warm, heady echo of what had passed between them. Lucas stirred first, eyes blinking open, every muscle languid and loose. Trevor lay behind him, one arm heavy over his waist, their bodies still joined by instinct even after sleep.
Windstone had been up for hours. From the hallway he had already sent away two junior staffers who had tried to approach the suite. He didn't need to open the doors to know what had happened between arrival and dawn. The scents told him everything, and the fact that neither man had emerged only confirmed it. With the quiet efficiency that made him invaluable, he cancelled all appointments, rerouted calls, and instructed the kitchen to have restorative food and plenty of water ready whenever the couple rang.
