Chapter 290: No Work Allowed

Runze’s POV

The glass library stands near the crest of the hill behind the main house, built directly into the slope. Late afternoon sunlight hits the tall, clear panels, reflecting the surrounding pine trees against the smooth glass.

I step across the polished concrete floor, checking the fit of the timber wall panels where they meet the ceiling joints. My fingers trail over the smooth finish of the long reading table, moving toward the custom shelving built along the back wall. Every detail matches the scale model I built months ago, right down to the low daybed positioned by the front glass wall overlooking the estate grounds below.

I pull out one of the reading chairs, testing its weight against the floor before pushing it back into place. Walking along the perimeter, I run my hand across the double-paned glass panel. It feels cool under my fingertips, sealing out the damp evening air from the surrounding hills. On the low side table, the small baby monitor sits upright, its tiny green light blinking silently to show that the nursery down at the main house remains calm.

A sharp click sounds at the entrance as the glass door swings inward.

Bael steps inside, shutting the door behind him to block out the cool breeze. He wears a charcoal knit sweater with the sleeves pushed up his forearms. He stops just past the threshold, his eyes sweeping slowly across the room, from the rows of empty shelves to the floor-to-ceiling glass wall framing the hill.

"It looks beautiful, exactly like the model," Bael says, his voice low as he takes a few steps toward the center of the room. He sets his phone on the counter near the entrance, his boots making a clean sound against the concrete.

"The structural joints came together clean," I reply, walking over to the side of the long table. "The glass is double-paned for insulation, so it stays cool in the summer and holds heat through the winter. The seal around the frame keeps the drafts out entirely. And over here—"

I turn toward the door to point out the brass latch, but Bael closes the distance between us before I can finish the sentence.

His arm wraps around my waist, pulling me firmly against his chest. Before I can open my mouth to speak, his other hand catches the back of my neck, tilting my head up as his lips press hard against mine.

The kiss is immediate and thorough, his breath hot against my face. His tongue pushes past my lips with deliberate pressure, tasting me deeply while his hand tightens at my hip, drawing my body flush against his. I rest my hands against his chest before wrapping my arms tightly around his neck, sinking into his hold.

He pulls back an inch, his eyes searching my face while his thumb rubs a slow line over my cheek. "You talk too much about construction when we’re alone."

"I am just checking my work," I say, though my breath comes out shallow.

"Check it later." Bael’s lips trail down my jaw, pressing a firm kiss against the side of my neck right beneath my ear, making a low sound catch in my throat. "Right now, you are with me."

He takes my hand, fingers lacing tightly through mine, tugging me backward toward the daybed set against the glass wall.

I catch my balance against the edge of the mattress, but Bael doesn’t give me time to sit properly. He steps between my knees, pushing me down until I fall back against the firm cushions. He leans over me, his broad frame blocking out the view of the trees behind him as his hands pin my wrists against the leather beside my head.

"Bael—"

He cuts me off with another deep kiss, his weight pressing me down into the mattress. His mouth moves hungrily against mine, his chest rising and falling against my ribs with rapid, uneven breaths. The familiar scent of him clings to his sweater, mixed with the faint warmth of his skin.

One of his hands slips from my wrist, sliding beneath the hem of my top to press his palm against my bare side. His skin is hot against mine, his fingers digging into my waist as he pulls me up closer to meet his mouth.

I shift my legs around his hips, pulling him down until there is no space left between us. His mouth leaves mine to track a row of slow kisses down my neck, stopping at my collarbone until I pull at his hair, bringing his lips back up to mine.

Bael’s chest heaves against mine, a breathless laugh escaping his lips as he looks down at my face, his fingers still locked around my wrist.

"A tea library," Bael murmurs, a low teasing smirk touching his lips as his thumb traces my bottom lip. "Is that what you told the contractors when you put a daybed this wide right against the glass?"

"It is for reading," I say, trying to keep my voice even, though my breath hitches as his other hand tightens at my waist.

"Right." Bael leans down until his lips brush the shell of my ear, his voice rough and amused. "Reading. With a bed this big, pressed right up to the glass so it feels like you’re outside the whole time." He pulls back just enough to look at me, eyes dark with quiet laughter. "You really expect me to believe you only planned on books in here?"

Heat rises in my face. I reach up and smooth a strand of dark hair from his forehead, trying to keep my expression steady. "It’s a daybed. People rest on daybeds."

"People do a lot of things on daybeds," he says, still smiling. "Especially ones built like this."

I open my mouth to argue, but he is already shifting his weight, leaning his shoulder against the armrest as his fingers brush the small brass plaque set into the timber near the floor. He reads it once, then looks back at me, the teasing still in his eyes but softer now.

"For Bael. With the people he loves."

He stays quiet for a second, thumb resting on the edge of the plaque, before he speaks again.

"Then my first rule for this room is that you aren’t allowed to do any work in here when I’m with you."

"That sounds like a terrible rule for an architect," I whisper, resting my hands against his chest.

"It’s my library," he says simply, and leans down to kiss me again.

His mouth is slow and deep this time, one hand still firm at my waist while the evening light outside the glass begins to fade into dusk.