FIVE
Rosie blinked awake the following morning, finding her eyelashes brushing against Hakan’s shoulder. She reared her head back, gazing at him, realizing that, for the first time in years, every muscle in her body was completely relaxed, completely free. She hadn’t felt so comfortable, so content, since she was a girl, in her childhood bed. She snuggled deeper into him, and he wrapped his arm around her, uniting them as one unit. She grinned to herself, wondering how she could have become so lucky.
Hakan brought his finger over her cheek, then, drawing a tingling line to her neck. “How did you sleep?” he asked.
“Like a child,” she murmured. “This is the most comfortable bed in the world.”
“You should see the one I have in New York,” he said, raising himself up on his arm. “It’s even bigger than this one, and from it, you have a view of all of Manhattan.”
Rosie closed her eyes, trying to imagine it. How was her body still humming from last night?
“I thought you said you liked to live a normal kind of life? You and your burger and fries?” she teased.
Hakan laughed. “Touché,” he chortled. “Now that you mention it, I want to ask you a question—but it might involve a bit of finery. Will you accept it?”
After a brief, fake hesitation, Rosie said