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He tilted his glass to let scotch bite his tongue.

CHAPTER FOUR

ELOISEWOKEDISORIENTED, thinking she was still dreaming because she was flying through the snow falling over the city. No. Those buildings were real. She was—

She sat up with a startled gasp, catching at the blanket before it slipped to the floor, but it was only the robe falling open across her bare legs. Her head swam as she stood to retie the belt and get her head on straight.

Through the predawn light, she saw the shape of someone in the bed.

Oh, no.

Her insides writhed with discomfiture at falling asleep in the first place, then sharing the room all night with Konstantin. It felt intimate, but also provocative. Did he sleep naked?

Don’t.

She had to leave.

She tiptoed to the bathroom, planning to dress and slip away, but he spoke in a graveled voice muffled by the pillow.

“We don’t have to get up for another hour. Do you want to sleep in a real bed?”

“No.” Her voice hit a note that should have shattered the windows.

“There’s one down the hall,” he clarified.

Oh. Of course, he wouldn’t invite her into his. Thank goodness it was barely light, not that he was looking at her to see the stinging heat that rushed into her cheeks.

“I’m fine. Go back to sleep.” She went into the bathroom and closed the door before she turned on the light. Her elf uniform wasn’t here. Neither were the clothes he’d loaned her.

She cracked the door to whisper, “Where are my clothes?”

“I threw them out.”

“Why?”

“We’re doing this now, then?” The blankets rustled as he rolled over, then they fell down his chest as his bent arms came up and flexed.

Dangerous tendrils of intrigue curled through her belly. “Doing what?” Her voice was still too high.

“Getting up. Talking.”

“No. I’m going home.”

With an impatient sigh, Konstantin threw back the covers and rose.

The winter light cast his bare chest and muscled legs in shades of pewter. He wore boxer briefs in a slash of black across his hips, but a jolt still went through her as she confronted all that naked skin. His physique was lean and powerful enough to dry her mouth.

And was he—?

She yanked her gaze to the windows, trying to unsee the press of his morning wood against his underwear.

“Did you take something?” he asked briskly.

“What?” She glanced to see he was dressing in the clothes she’d left on the foot of the bed. He had the track pants over his hips and yanked the drawstring before he tied it off.

“Drugs. Is that why you passed out?”

“No. I already told you I don’t take drugs.”