Page 68 of Chasing Stardust

“You don’t know that. Maybe she does.”

Hushed voices filter into my consciousness, dragging me from a magnificent dream where I’m floating through the air on a marshmallow cloud. Am I still dreaming?

The voices go silent, and I snuggle into the comfortable bedding again. I could float here forever.

“Should we poke her and see?”

I open one eye to discover Dash gone and two identical cherub faces leaning over me, the sun forming a halo behind them. Like tiny mirror images of each other, they wear matching floral tops, purple shorts, and the same dark ponytails punctuated with a lilac ribbon tied at the bottom of each one.

“She’s awake,” the little girl on the left whispers, her navy eyes stretching wide.

The other girl lets out a squeak, her mouth dropping open in a little pink bow. They smell like ripe berries, fresh from the vine.

With her blue eyes locked on me, the first girl elbows the second and whispers out of the corner of her mouth. “Should we get Tonya?”

A woman wearing a plain blue skirt and a crisp white blouse pops her head into the room. A severe bun pulls her auburn hair back from her face, making her look almost angry.

“What are you girls doing in your brother’s—oh!” She flinches as her gaze lands on me. “I didn’t—do I know you?”

“Uh . . .” I tug the zillion-thread-count white sheet to my chin. “D-Dash—”

“I should’ve known.” She rolls her eyes, clearly judging me. “Come on, girls. It would appear as though your brother’s home.”

I want to tell her we didn’t . . . it wasn’t like that. Despite the overwhelming desire to rip his clothes off and have my way with him, we just slept. Nothing more.

But I don’t dare say a word.

The girls squeal, jumping up and down beside the plush bed.

“She must be our present,” one of the girls sings.

Do the disgustingly wealthy really give people as presents? If so, I should probably make a run for it while I still can.

“No.” The woman grins. “She is not your present.”

“She’s mine.” Dash wanders into the room, all rumpled and sexy in his gray flannel sleep pants and wrinkled white tee.

“Aww, Dash,” both girls chime simultaneously. “But you always bring us presents!”

“Not this time, munchkins. I didn’t even know you’d be here. Now, scram. Both of you.”

Dash sweeps a hand through the air and clears everyone from the room before closing the door behind him with a quiet snick. With his glasses crooked across the bridge of his nose, he climbs into the bed and crawls toward me with a sleepy smile. “Sorry about that. I had to make a phone call. Did you sleep well?” He plants a sweet kiss on my lips before collapsing into the massive stack of downy pillows.

“I did.” I giggle. “Almost too well. I forgot where I was.”

For the first time since waking, I scope out my surroundings. Other than the massive windows framing Manhattan, the room is devoid of decoration. Nothing that would indicate Dash’s presence. The stark white walls, crisp white bedding, and light-washed wood floors all blend together, but with a view that goes on for miles, it’s still the nicest room I’ve ever stayed in.

Dash rests his head on my shoulder. “Sorry about the twins.”

“Your sisters?”

“Yeah. I didn’t realize Tonya and the girls would be here.”

“Tonya? Your stepmom?”

He snorts. “The nanny.”

“Oh.”