Emery woke up feeling unusually rested, the kind of sleep that made her body feel lighter. For a moment, she didn’t even realize it was already noon. When her eyes finally adjusted to the light seeping through the paper shoji screens, she blinked in surprise.
She wasn’t lying on a Western–style bed. Instead, she was on a futonid neatly over tatami mats. At first, she had assumed she wouldn’t like it. She thought it was too firm and too close to the floor, but <b>it </b>turned out to be one of the mostfortable sleeps she had ever had. The faint scent of the straw mats, the crisp bedding, and the stillness of the room gave it a calming atmosphere.
The space itself was simple but elegant. It was different from anything she was used to, yet strangely soothing. In fact, she quite liked it.
Stretching her arms above her head, Emery let out a soft sigh. Then her stomach growled loudly, breaking the peaceful moment. She frowned and sat up, ncing at the <b>futon </b>next to hers. It was empty,
Which meant Logan hadn’t slept here. Either he hadn’te in at allst night, or he had chosen to stay elsewhere.
“Good,” she muttered to herself, though the word didn’t carry as much conviction as she wanted. It would be better if Logan stopped sleeping beside her for a few days. She needed space to cool down after what happenedst night. That confrontation had been too intense, and just thinking about his voice, his grip, the way he looked at her like nothing else mattered was enough to unsettle her.
Her stomach tightened in a way that wasn’t hunger, and it annoyed her. She had never felt like this with Samuel. With him, things had been predictable, t, even suffocating at times. But with Logan? It was different. There was a rush to it, something almost reckless, something that made her feel like a foolish teenager again. And that was disturbing.
She pressed her hand lightly against her abdomen as if the movement might chase the sensation away. “Or I’m just hungry,” she muttered. Or it must be her hormones. “I’m pregnant, after all.”
But the excuse didn’t quite silence the flutter inside her chest.
Emery quickly got up, washed her face, and stepped out of the room. The house was quiet, almost too quiet, but not in an ufortable way. For once, the silence felt peaceful, and she realized she didn’t mind it at all.
The vi’s second floor opened onto a wooden corridor that overlooked the garden outside. Sunlight spilled in through the tall shoji windows, casting warm patterns across the tatami mats. She padded down the hallway and descended the wooden stairs, her hand brushing the smooth railing.
The first floor carried the same Japanese style. It had low ceilings with dark beams, sliding doors, and the faint smell of cedar that lingered in the air. When she stepped into the kitchen, Emery paused.
It was cozy, warmer than she expected, with polished counters<b>, </b>a low wooden dining table set near the window, and hangingntern lights that gave the space a golden glow.
On the table, several dishes had been neatly arranged, each wrapped in stic with handwritten instructions taped to the top: heat for three minutes, stir before serving, add broth after warming.
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Emery couldn’t help but smile. She knew that it was Logan’s handwriting. Did he cook the food himself? She shook her head, amused, and began unwrapping one of the dishes, setting it into the microwave. The faint hum filled the kitchen, the only sound breaking the stillness of the vi.
After finishing her breakfast, she poured herself a cup of hot tea and carried it with her as she wandered toward the back of the vi.
Last night, everything had been chaos, and she hadn’t had the chance to pay attention to her surroundings. Now, with daylight streaming through the sliding ss doors, she finally saw the exterior for what it was.
The garden that greeted her looked like it had been pulled from a painting. Stonenterns stood among neatly pruned shrubs, and a line of cherry trees framed the view, their leaves rustling softly in the wind.
A gravel path wound through moss–covered rocks, leading toward a cluster of bamboo that swayed in rhythm with the breeze. The air smelled fresh. Earthy and clean, with the faintest hint of pine.
As Emery stepped farther onto the veranda, a new sound reached her ears. It was a steady ssh, rhythmic and crisp. She frowned, tilting her head, and followed the sound.
Just to the side of the garden was a pool, but not the kind she was used to. This one looked natural, built to blend with thendscape. Smooth river stones lined its edges, and crystal–clear water flowed gently in and out through a hidden stream, keeping it fresh and cool.
Despite the movement, it was contained, shaped long and narrow like ap pool. The water reflected the sky above, rippling each time a strong arm cut through the surface.
Her eyes widened when she spotted Logan.
He was in the middle of the pool, swimming steadyps with powerful strokes. The muscles in his back flexed under the sunlight, droplets gliding off his skin each time he turned for air.
Emery stood still, tea forgotten in her hand, watching. For reasons she couldn’t exin, her chest tightened. Why was she acting like a damn teenager having a crush on someone!?
Emery’s thoughts were still tangled as she stood there, tea in hand, staring at Logan swimming, when the sound of someone clearing their throat behind her made her turn.
It was I Vale. Emery recognized her immediately. The ash–blond hair, the tall and slender frame, the professional air she carried without even trying and, obviously, the white dress. I was one of Logan’s closest people, and Emery had already crossed paths with her once before.
“Madam,” I greeted with a polite smile. “Do you need anything?”
“Please call me Emery,” Emery smiled, then she shook her head slightly. “No… I’m fine.” Still, she noticed I’s eyes drop briefly to her stomach before returning to her face. The look wasn’t judgmental, just matter–of–fact, but it made Emery shift her weight ufortably.
“Where’s Lucille?” Emery asked.
“Logan sent her to Russia,” I replied calmly. “Special training.”
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Emery lifted a brow at that but didn’t ask further. Russia? Training? Whatever Logan had his people doing, she doubted it was anything ordinary.
“You could join him, if you want,” I said, ncing toward the pool. “Movement is good for the baby.”
Emery nearly choked on her tea. She quickly shook her head. “No. I don’t swim.”
I tilted her head. “Really?”
“Well…” Emery sighed, a bit embarrassed. “I wouldn’t drown. I can float. Like a balloon or something. But I don’t swim like that.” She nodded toward the pool where Logan cut across the water in long, powerful strokes, barely slowing as he reached the edge and turned.
Almost as if he had heard her, Logan stopped midp. His head lifted, water dripping down his face as his gaze locked directly on her. Emery’s breath caught in her chest.
I noticed too, though her expression stayed neutral. “I came to deliver reports,” she said.
Logan’s voice carried across the pool. “Wait for me in the study.”
I gave a short nod. “Of course.” Without another word, she turned and disappeared back into the vi, leaving Emery alone on the veranda.
Her fingers tightened on the teacup as Logan climbed out of the water. Sunlight glinted across his shoulders, his chest rising and falling steadily as he grabbed a towel and dragged it across his skin. He was wearing nothing but small swimming trunks that highlighted all of his… blessings.
Emery’s throat went dry. What the hell was she even thinking? She forced herself to look away, pretending the gardennterns had suddenly be very interesting.
But even as she looked elsewhere, she couldn’t ignore the sound of his footsteps approaching.
“How’s your sleep?” he asked, his voice unusually low.
AD