Chapter Twelve
I feel soft lips on my face and wake to find Paul lying next to me. His hair is wet, and he smells like soap and aftershave.
“How long have you been awake?” I ask as I stretch.
“About twenty minutes. Coffee is ready, when you want some.”
“You should have woken me up before you took a shower. I'd have joined you.” Paul's cleanliness emphasizes the fact that I still smell like a kitchen.
“Why don't you enjoy one on your own?” he suggests. “There's a boutique down the street. I can run out and grab you some fresh clothes.”
“You'd do that for me?” I ask.
“Kiara, I'd do anything for you,” he says.
“Then that sounds like a plan. But don't spend too much money,” I insist.
“My robe is hanging on the bathroom door,” he tells me. “If I'm not back by the time you get out, feel
