The morning light bled through the massive windows, casting golden streaks over the silk sheets tangled around Nirvana’s legs. She stretched, muscles still thrumming with the memory of last night’s tension. RAyNe had played his game well, but so had she.

A sharp knock on her door interrupted her thoughts.

Before she could respond, Gianni stepped in, holding a sleek black box with a satin ribbon. He set it on the bed beside her.

"From RAyNe," he said.

Nirvana arched a brow. "Should I be ...