The faint hues of dawn filtered through the white curtains, painting the office in soft pastels as Blair winced with every slight movement. She pressed her hand against her lower back for support as she eased herself into a sitting position. Biting her lip, she stifled any sound that might disturb the beast lying on the mattress beside her.

  Her eyes darted around the room, searching for her discarded clothes, only to find a few torn remnants scattered across the floor. “Did he really have to tear all my clothes?” she muttered under her breath, furrowing her brows.

  She glanced at the clock on the wall—time was ticking, and she had a flight to catch at six. “Damn it! How am I supposed to leave at five in the morning?” she muttered under her breath, her frustration tinged with urgency as vivid memories of the night before replayed in her mind, sending an involuntary blush to her cheeks.

  Before she could fully rise, a strong arm encircled her waist and effortlessly pulled her back onto the mattress. Blair let out a soft yelp as she landed sprawled across Ezra’s firm chest, her hands instinctively bracing against the hard contours of his body. His warmth radiated through her skin, and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her palms caused her to momentarily freeze.

  His voice rumbled lazily against her ear. “Sleep still,” he commanded, his eyes still closed, yet his grip was firm enough to ensure she wouldn’t wriggle away. “I rebooked your ticket.”

  She sighed, her cheeks flushing at the situation. “That’s not all,” she whispered, squirming slightly in his grasp but failing miserably to free herself. “Your employees will start arriving soon.” Her voice dropped to a mortified tone. “Do you want them to guess what happened here? Because I really don’t.”

  He cracked one eye open, a sleepy smirk tugging at his lips as he pulled her even closer. “And I can assure you, it’s quite easy to guess what two legal-age adults are doing together in a place with a mattress.”

  Blair’s eyes widened, and she swatted his chest, her face flushed with embarrassment. “Look at me. I’m not wearing anything right now because you tore it all off!”

  He chuckled—a low, rich sound—as if her embarrassment were a source of endless amusement. “Should I still need to look?” he murmured, his fingers tracing languid patterns on her back. “You’re above me. I can feel it.”

  She quickly rolled away from him, swiftly grabbed the blanket, and covered herself tightly, cocooning like an omelet. “Stop messing around, Ezra Taylor!” she hissed, burying her face in her other hand.

  He raised an eyebrow, propping himself up on one elbow. His sleepy smirk transformed into a full grin as he observed her frantic movements. “So, now you’re all about protecting your dignity after all the pos—”

  Before he could finish his sentence, she covered his mouth with her hand, her eyes wide with mortification.

  “You’re impossible!” she squeaked in panic, her voice barely above a whisper as her eyes darted nervously to the office door. Her ears strained to catch any hint of footsteps or voices outside, fully aware of how early some of Ezra’s staff arrived for work.

  “Relax,” his voice was calm, carrying the soft rasp of someone who had just woken up. He paused, smirking as he leaned back on his elbows. His unbuttoned shirt hung open, revealing his chiseled chest bathed in the early light of dawn. The ridges of his flawless abs stood out with effortless perfection, as if sculpted from the gentle glow of morning.

  “I told all my staff to take the day off,” he added, his smirk deepening as his gaze locked onto hers. “No one is coming in to work.”

  He leaned back slightly, a teasing glint in his eyes as he mumbled under his breath, “And I should let them know their boss isn’t made of wood… or a monk.”

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  Her lips pressed into a thin line, but the slight twitch at the corners betrayed the amused smile she was trying to suppress as the tension she felt finally eased. She raked her fingers through her tousled hair, allowing her usual composure to settle back into place like a well-rehearsed performance.

  With an adorable pout, Blair puffed out her cheeks and crossed her arms over the blanket that she had wrapped snugly around herself. “Why didn’t you tell me that from the beginning?” she grumbled, her tone laced with playful annoyance.

  Ezra’s smirk turned downright mischievous. “Exactly,” he said simply.

  Her brows furrowed, and her lips parted as if to ask what he meant, but he didn’t give her a chance. Rising gracefully, he rolled his shoulders back, causing the unbuttoned shirt to slip further off one shoulder, teasing her flustered gaze. Without another word, he made his way toward the door, leaving her sitting there, her expression a mix of curiosity and disbelief.

  “What does ‘exactly’ even mean?” she murmured to herself.

  It wasn’t until he returned, carrying a tray laden with a steaming breakfast and a small bowl of fruit, that her senses returned. Alongside the tray, he held a bag filled with several still-wrapped items bearing the logo of a pharmacy.

  Blair blinked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously as she surveyed the scene. The rich aroma of the freshly prepared meal filled the room, momentarily distracting her from her earlier embarrassment. However, her gaze darted back to the tray, and a horrifying realization struck her—someone must have delivered this to the door.

  Her cheeks flushed crimson as snippets of their earlier conversation replayed in her mind. How could she forget his elite shadow guard, who was always nearby, ensuring his safety?

  “What’s this?” she asked, the familiar aroma drawing her attention as her gaze shifted to the other items.

  He placed everything on the desk beside her, his smirk deepening as he tilted his head. “Breakfast and reinforcements,” he said with a maddeningly casual shrug.

  Her cheeks burned as the realization struck her. Reinforcements. For what purpose? Last night’s battle—or tonight’s potential rematch?

  “What are you thinking, huh?” Without warning, he reached out and flicked her forehead, eliciting a startled yelp from her. “I’m not that much of a beast. The reinforcement I meant,” he continued, setting the pharmacy bag on the table, “is for your sore throat, body aches, and, well…” His lips twitched into a barely concealed smirk as he pulled a small container from the bag.

  He held it up, allowing her to absorb the familiar label without uttering the name aloud. “This is for… other sore spots,” he concluded.

  Her cheeks burned even more intensely, the color spreading down her neck.

  She scrambled for a response, her hands flying up in protest. “I—I was just wondering why there aren’t any clothes for me,” she blurted out, crossing her arms over the blanket that was still wrapped tightly around her, as if it were a shield.

  He raised an eyebrow, clearly relishing her flustered state. His smirk deepened as he leaned casually against the couch, arms crossed. “Is that so?” he drawled, his voice laced with amusement. “Well, you can check the closet.”

  She hurried to the closet, still wrapped in a blanket, eager to finally put on some clothes. She swung the closet doors open, expecting to find one or two of his oversized shirts to borrow. Instead, her jaw dropped.

  Inside, the closet was filled with women’s clothing—pieces that appeared to be handpicked just for her. There was silky nightwear, elegant casual dresses, blouses, and jeans in her exact size. At the bottom, neatly lined up, were rows of shoes from brands she frequently wore.

  Blair wasn’t surprised at all; Ezra was always like this, anticipating her needs before she even thought of them herself.

  —————

  Ezra stepped out of the car first, his movements deliberate and smooth. He circled the car, opening the passenger door for her. Before she could swing her legs out, he rested one hand on the edge of the door and leaned down slightly, his sharp eyes meeting hers with an almost knowing look.

  “Are you sure you didn’t forget something?” His tone was firm as his sharp eyes studied her intently.

  “I’m sure, Ezra. I have everything,” her voice rushed as she grabbed her bag. She stepped out of the car in a flurry, tugging the strap over her shoulder with a hurried motion, glancing nervously at her watch as if time itself were chasing her.

  Before she turned toward the terminal, she leaned back into the car. With one swift motion, she pressed a quick kiss to Ezra’s lips, the contact fleeting but warm. “Thanks for bringing me to the airport,” she said, her words rushed but sincere.

  Without waiting for a reply, she straightened and darted toward the entrance; her steps brisk as the sound of her heels clicked against the pavement. Ezra watched her go, his expression unreadable, one hand resting on the steering wheel as the other clenched something inside his pocket. “No. You didn’t say it this time,” he mumbled.