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“I’ll be chivalrous. I won’t kick you out if you crawl under my covers in the middle of the night.” Gaze glittering, he backed away slowly, reached for the waist of the towel–and dropped the material.
My jaw went slack. What I didn’t do? Close my eyes or spin around. He was just so big. Huge. I took my time looking over his trim waist, tree trunk thighs and everywhere in between. Licking my lips, I fanned my reheating cheeks.
For some reason, my undisturbed scrutiny disturbed him, and he stiffened. He pivoted to reveal the world’s sexiest backside and returned to the underwear drawer, where he swiped up and stepped into a pair of black boxer briefs, ending my leering.
“Until then,” he added, keeping his back to me, “blankets are in the cabinet.” He rasped the words. “Good night. Though I expect you’re in for a bad one.”
I remained in place, floundering for a response. For the right thoughts. He strode to the bed, slid under the soft, dark blue covers, plumped a mound of pillows, then settled in with his hands locked behind his head. Golden lamplight bathed him, highlighting features now a little too smug for my liking.
He expected me to cave and climb in, didn’t he?
Nose in the air, I flounced to the specified cabinet and withdrew two comforters. One for the floor, one for me. I felt the sear of Callen’s attention all the while. “What do you hope to gain through this situation? Sex? Because the only thing you’ll get from me is trouble.”
Intimacy was the main reason I’d broken up withAugust. As we’d argued more and more about even the littlest things, we’d lost all sense of companionship. It was also the reason I’d clashed with so many of the men my mother shoved into my path. Most of the guys had hinted at a no strings arrangement, but deep down, I sought what my namesake had expected. Love and respect and mutual affection. I wouldn’t settle for anything less.
I could guess what would happen if Callen and I slept together. We would return to being adversaries with a tragic past, and I’d fight harder to get home, laden with even more guilt.
“Not everything is about sex, Elle.”
Dang him. That was a good answer. And he’d used my shortened name of his own accord, plus a firm tone that pointed to truth. “What’s this about, then? Besides safety.” Determined, I made my pallet before the unlit hearth, kicked off my shoes, then laid down. And struggled to get comfortable. The floor sucked. Hard and uncomfortable. And cold!
“If you don’t know, it’s too early for the conversation. Also, if you wish for me to believe that you don’t want me,” he said, switching off the lamp, welcoming darkness into the room, “donna look at me as if you could eat me alive.”
Fair enough. Wasn’t like I could deny it. “Donna put your goods and services on display then,” I retorted, mocking him. I rolled to my side, showing him my back. I wouldn’t be moving from this spot for any reason, and that was that.
“I’m not sorry,” he rasped, his voice pure temptation.
I breathed through my nose and out my mouth, willing my erratic pulse to calm. Why’d he have to sound like everything I’d ever wanted?
“Just so you know, I donna have a mistress,” he added, “and I willna’ seek another. It would dishonor our vows and make me into a liar and a cheater, traits I despise.”
The sudden seriousness of his tone and the openness of the statements caught me off guard.
Our vows, he’d said. The vows he’d made with a different woman. Groaning, I pulled the cover over my head. Thankfully, he said nothing more. Did nothing but let the minutes pass. Another surprise. He didn’t strike me as the type to give up easily. Unless he played the long game…
In the quiet, the trials of the day took their toll. My eyelids grew heavy, and sleep came, consuming every thought in its path.
A gloriously scentedcocoon surrounded me. I snuggled deeper into my bed. Hmm. The mattress was harder than usual, yet also somehow softer. And warmer. Far better. Total relaxation overtook me, and I drifted into a new dream.
The most beautiful images dominated center stage. A small chapel with ornate stained-glass windows and fancy murals painted all over the walls. Colorful flowers hung in every direction. Petals littered the floor, creating a path between two rows of pews, filled by men in tuxes and kilts and women in formal gowns and hats.
How lovely. Except yikes. No one smiled. Frowns and scowls abounded, each directed at me.I stood atop a dais, decked out in Isobel’s wedding dress, Callen a tower of strength beside me. And still not wearing a kilt. Though I couldn’t complain about his current fashion choice.Wowzer.
He looked like how I imagined a berserker would’ve appeared hundreds of years ago. War paint streaked his freshly shaven face. Thick metal bands crisscrossed his bare chest. Metal cupped his shoulders, too, anchoring a fur wrap in place. Leather hugged those powerful thighs, and a loincloth made of interlocking metal plates hung over the pants, draping his groin. Weapons of every kind were strapped to his hulking body. Swords. Daggers. An ax and crossbow. Even a spear. The icing on top of his look? The cold stare making me desperate to melt him.
The man was a romance novel hero come to life.
As I studied him, I teetered on my stilettos and almost toppled. He caught me, and I giggled in his face. His coldness only intensified, becoming an arctic freeze. After he helped me straighten and steady, I decided it would be a good idea to poke his pec.
“Pretty muscles,” I slurred before full-on petting him. At least I wasn’t trying to walk through a mirror. “Do you strip out of a police costume too, or are you strictly a Norse-Scottish serial killer?”
The question sparked flickers of neon blue rings in his irises. The sight startled me, and I gasped, jolting upright. My hand flew to my throat, where my pulse raced. Okay, that hadn’t felt like a dream, but a memory. As if I had relived Isobel’s recollection of the event and inserted myself.
Had I?
Hey! I wasn’t near the hearth or on the floor. I lay on—oh, no, no, no. I lay on Callen. Like, on top of him. He stretched out beneath me. Only my T-shirt and pants separated us. I scrambled to the other side of the bed.
He slowly opened his eyes and gifted me with a smug smile. “Good mornin’, wife. Did you have a nice night?”
