Chapter 144: Undercover Assistant

His fingers found her sides and tickled her.

She had clearly not seen that coming. Naomi burst into hysterical laughter, squirming violently in his arms while trying to slap his hands away. "No! No! Dorian!" She kicked uselessly against the sofa, laughter filling the entertainment room while Dorian continued without mercy. "I’m sorry!" she gasped. "I’m sorry! I said I’m sorry!"

Her laughter was beautiful.

But as Naomi was twisting and squirming against him, and unfortunately—or very fortunately, depending on perspective—most of that movement was happening directly over his cock.

Her bare body rubbed against his.

Naturally, his body responded.

He was a healthy, fully functioning man. Dorian finally stopped tickling her.

Naomi sagged against him, breathless from laughing. "You’re horrible."

Dorian brushed her messy hair away from her face and gathered it back with one hand. "Now, can I get a proper good morning?"

She reached up and kissed him. "Good morning, husband."

Dorian smiled against her lips.

Then his hips shifted upward, his cock pressing against her.

Dorian raised a brow. "Good morning from down there."

Naomi placed a hand against his chest before he could become too ambitious. "You have to get ready for work."

Dorian dropped his head back with a groan. "Yeah, I know!"

Work suddenly seemed like an exceptionally poor use of his morning.

"Why’d you fire Adrian?"

That question had come out of nowhere.

Dorian immediately found himself choosing his words carefully. He didn’t want to lie to her.

Since this whole ridiculous marriage had started, he had omitted things. He had kept things from her. Some very important things.

But he had not outright lied. And he didn’t want to start now.

"He’ll be back," Dorian said instead.

"So you suspended him?"

"It’s just a work stunt," Dorian said.

"Ah..." She nodded slowly. "Undercover stuff."

"Something like that."

"Got you."

And just like that, she let it go.

Naomi shifted off his lap and reached down for his shirt, which had been discarded somewhere during the previous night’s madness. She slipped it on and began fastening a few buttons.

His shirt barely covered enough of her thighs to qualify as clothing, and after spending the night discovering several new uses for the entertainment floor, he wasn’t exactly in a position to pretend modesty mattered anymore.

"Come on," Naomi said. "I’ll make you breakfast while you get ready. Do you have any idea where my phone is?"

He thought about it. "I believe we left it in the elevator along with your jacket."

"Right... of course."

Last night had left casualties all over the floors.

Naomi headed toward the elevator before turning back. "You coming down?"

"I’ll use the bathroom up here and come down to dress."

"Okay." She walked back to him, leaned down and kissed him again then straightened and started toward the elevator once more.

"Naomi?"

She stopped. "Yeah..." turned to look at him.

I love you.

The words were right there. Right on the tip of his tongue.

Three words.

Telling his own wife he loved her was where Dorian Heathcliffe’s courage went to die.

He weighed his options quickly.

Was it reasonable to tell her now? Could he risk it? Maybe he was overthinking everything.

He could simply say it.

Put his feelings out there and let them exist. Just the truth.

I love you, Naomi.

"Dorian?" she called.

His nerve collapsed.

"Coffee..." he said wanting to punch himself. "Black."

Her face immediately twisted into disbelief. "I know that." She rolled her eyes at him as though he had personally insulted her by suggesting she wouldn’t know something as basic as how he drank his coffee.

Naomi turned away again and called for the elevator.

"Coward..." Dorian muttered to himself.

The elevator doors opened.

He got to his feet and headed toward the bathroom while Naomi stepped inside, her clutch purse still in there with her jacket.

Naomi picked up both her jacket and clutch from the elevator floor, then snapped the purse open and pulled out her phone. She frowned at the black screen.

That was weird.

She had charged it before leaving for the forum, and she had barely touched it all night. She hadn’t even taken any pictures, which was particularly annoying considering the buffet presentation had been one of the few things she actually wanted to remember properly. She pressed the power button again.

"Great." Naomi tucked the phone into her hand, stepped out of the elevator. She plugged it into a charger in the living room before heading to the kitchen to start preparing for the day. Her thoughts drifted back to Dorian.

More specifically, to his terrible breakfast habits.

Naomi still didn’t understand how the man remained upright through an entire workday with how little he ate in the mornings.

She could put a full plate in front of him, and Dorian would pick at it.

One bite.

Maybe two.

Then suddenly he was gone. Running on black coffee, and whatever dark magic powered criminal lawyers.

Fine, Adrian had warned her from the beginning that Dorian wasn’t much of a breakfast person. That didn’t mean Naomi had stopped trying.

Sometimes she gave him something small before he left.

Fruit.

Toast.

Something he could eat quickly. Even then, he usually managed one bite.

Naomi opened the refrigerator and started throwing a few things together, moving easily around the kitchen while thinking ahead to lunch.

If Dorian refused to eat properly before work, then she could at least make sure he had something decent later.

Naomi began opening cabinets.

Where would a man who barely remembered food existed keep a lunch thermos? After searching through two cupboards, she finally found one tucked toward the back, along with a neat insulated lunch bag.

She pulled both out.

A little while later, the kitchen smelled warm and savory, and Naomi had managed to put together breakfast while packing something substantial for him to take along.

She stood back, pleased with herself.

By the time everything was ready, footsteps approached.

Dorian appeared in the kitchen fully dressed for work. His gaze moved toward the counter. "Smells delicious in here."