Seven Nights of Sin (Penthouse Affair #2)

Later, I roll my suitcase down to Bianca’s little sedan, and we make the short drive to Dominic’s luxury high-rise building.

“Okay, I have to ask. Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Bianca’s hands are on the wheel and her foot is on the brake pedal. We’ve just arrived outside of Dominic’s apartment building and I’m about to step out.

My hand slips from the lock on the door. “What do you mean?” I’m not used to Bianca being the voice of caution in our friendship. Actually, she’s the opposite.

She lowers her sunglasses to the tip of her nose. “I know things have been shaky . . . between work and Mr. Man. I just want you to be sure about it. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

I sink back into my seat, grateful for her concern. “I’ll admit, I’m kind of nervous. This isn’t really me . . . or it isn’t who I thought I was.” I meet her eyes, continuing in a braver voice. “But now, I’m learning things about myself on the daily. This new Presley is someone I’d like to get to know a little better. So I figure, why not follow my instincts and go on an all-expenses-paid trip with the hottest guy I’ve ever met?”

Bianca throws her head back and laughs at that.

“And,” I say, “I feel like leaning into this.”

“The adventure?”

“Yeah.” And the guy.

Bianca leans over and wraps me in her arms, and for a second, I feel safe and warm and loved. After the tumultuous few days I’ve had, it’s nice. Having her approval during this wild chapter in my life is everything to me. I squeeze her tight.

“I’m thankful for you,” I say, finally pulling back.

thankful for you too. Now go get

and exit the car. Yeah, right

up to the twelfth floor alone, just me and my worn-out suitcase. I pause at his front door, my fist hovering inches from

It’s hardly leaning in if you can’t even

I can make a

says, those sharp eyes

tight glutes are just as awe-inspiring in denim as they

can’t help but wonder what he’d look like

of time to ogle this new look before I’m distracted by Lacey and Emilia’s small voices down the hall. They’re

must be so confused. Work trips aren’t really within the realm of a two-year-old’s understanding. I wonder how Dominic is feeling, having to leave his two little girls for an extended trip like

the corner,

the door. Curious to see what the interaction with his daughters will be, I peek

whines, her tiny hands clasped around Dominic’s fingers, who crouches

I can hear Francine bustling around in the kitchen, giving the family the space they need for this

girl on top of the

at the sight. Dominic so easily made

he were like this with people his

turns to see me watching him, and

in silence, a stark contrast to our more recent highlights in limos. He barely speaks to me at all, even when we arrive at the