"Ready?" he asked.
She nodded, too shaken, too wrecked to say anything at all. Anything she said wouldn't make a bit of sense anyway.
He opened the door and got out and a moment later came around to open hers.
"You're staying over again," he said as they walked toward the entrance.
It wasn't a request, but there was none of the usual arrogance in his voice. He said it matter-of-factly as though there were no other conceivable possibility. But then he looked at her, and brief uncertainty—so brief she wasn't even sure if that was what she saw—flashed in his eyes.
But she nodded, confirming his dictate.
"Of course I'll stay," she said softly.
They rode up the elevator and as they stepped off, he pulled her back against him, using his body to block the doors.
"Wait for me in bed," he said in a husky voice. "I won't be too late."
She leaned up and brushed her mouth across his lips. "I'll wait."
