The heavy, satisfied sleep was broken not by the city's roar, but by the crisp, salty aroma of sizzling bacon and fried eggs drifting into the master suite. I shifted, my hand instinctively sweeping across the silk sheets for the warmth of the woman I'd conquered last night.
The space was empty. The sheets were still tangled and cool where she had been lying.
I sat up, a slow smirk tugging at my lips. Already in the kitchen playing the dutiful wife? I thought. It was a hell of a shift from the suspicious, shouting girl I'd picked up in Queens. The penthouse life was clearly agreeing with her; she was working overtime to prove she was worth the luxury.
"Wow. That's a first," I muttered, stretching my arms until my muscles popped. "She really is trying her best to stay in the castle."
