I rose out of my splits. Without Roman there to watch me, it felt silly to remain that way - like I was doing stretches in the skimpiest pair of panties I could find.

I took the white robe and slid into it. I knew Roman was tall, at least six feet, but I felt like Dumbledore in the thing, its sleeves hung well past my hands and the bottom dragged across the ground like a wedding dress.

The mobster's little wife, I thought with a smile as I did a lap around the enormous bathroom, admiring the ...