Seven Nights of Sin (Penthouse Affair #2)

Dominic

I’m woken up by two tiny, adorable heathens climbing on me and demanding pancakes. Part of me wants to be annoyed, wants to roll over and keep sleeping, or maybe chastise them for waking me up by climbing on me. Instead, there’s a smile on my lips even before my eyes open.

Presley isn’t far behind them, her hair wet from the shower, looking so much better than she did yesterday. When I ask how she feels, she admits she’s starving too.

Surprised, but grateful to see them all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed again, I cook up a full breakfast, pour orange juice, and brew coffee. My three former “patients” wolf down their breakfast like they haven’t eaten in days. I enjoy mine at a much more leisurely pace, but I’m sympathetic; a diet of broth, crackers, and bananas is hardly satisfying. I’m thankful it’s Saturday and I don’t have to rush off to the office once they’re finally feeling better.

Now they’re watching TV while I rinse our cups and syrup-smeared plates and load them into the dishwasher. Shutting its door, I ask Presley, “Want more coffee while I’m up? There’s at least a cup left in the pot.”

“Yes, please,” she says emphatically. “I’ve missed it.”

“After one single caffeine-free day? I’m pretty sure based on those parameters alone, that makes you an addict,” I tease, bringing the pot to her proffered mug.

“Hey, it’s no fun dealing with a wicked withdrawal headache on top of the flu.” She takes a long sip with a happy sigh. “Ah . . . my hero. Thank you.”

I’m not sure what’s changed between us, but it’s obvious something has. When I saw her sick and sleeping on the floor at the foot of Lacey’s bed, something inside me shifted. And I can feel it now too. We’re more comfortable together, more in sync than we have been. What started as a chemical thing—a lustful attraction—has given way to more, despite all my best efforts.

“I’m bored,” Lacey says with a pout.

“Outside?” Emilia asks excitedly.

I don’t blame them for being restless after a day stuck in bed. “Sure, let’s go out and do something fun. How’s the park sound?” It’s not exactly an adventure, but I’m reluctant to go too far in case they aren’t totally recovered.

When girls cheer, Presley laughs. “Looks like it’s unanimous.”

suggest. As expected, I’m met with enthusiastic shouts, so I grab the rest of the loaf we used to make peanut

is bad for ducks,” Presley says. “I read somewhere that it’s like junk food—it doesn’t

“Really? I had no idea.

phone for a minute before saying, “Whole grains,

doing research, even on your days off,” I say,

a self-deprecating chuckle. “What can I say? Ducks are

nods forcefully, and Lacey

wasn’t making fun of you—well, maybe I was, but that habit is also one of the things I

hell was that? I sound like I’m giving an employee

at least a little bit about everything, and you always put in the effort to double-check and be totally sure of

at me, and her confused

asshole, Dom, when she’s here helping

home, helping with my daughters, is seriously messing with me—although the last thing I want to do

of oats, corn, peas, and lettuce. Then we head out on the short walk to the park,

right away to feed the ducks, but I say, “Eat your lunch first, then you can go play.” They inhale their PB&J sandwiches as

all day yesterday.” I blow out a relieved sigh. “I’m glad you all recovered so fast. Guess I should have believed Francine when she said it would only last

never caught it at all,”

time, I promise I’ll get sick as a dog and you can spend a whole

gives it a squeeze, then looks self-conscious. “Sorry, I didn’t think. We shouldn’t be doing stuff like

trees rustle in the breeze and my daughters’ giggles . . . I’m too relaxed to really be bothered by anything. I reach out to squeeze Presley just to prove how okay

her head rest on my shoulder, so I leave