AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“There’s nothing to talk about. I’ll rest easier once I get this project at work wrapped up.”
She was too tired to hang onto him as he tucked her beneath the covers. She didn’t hear him cross the room, but she heard the quiet snick of the bathroom door closing and the sound of water several seconds later. She shuddered, knowing the shower he was taking was ice-cold. The damn man was going to kill himself if he didn’t learn how to sleep for more than three or four hours at a stretch.
She nabbed one of his pillows and hugged it to her. She’d done her best to wear him out before they went to bed. Her body was sated and pleasantly achy. It pained her that she couldn’t give him the same tranquility he gave her. This was the fourth day he’d woken up exceptionally early, body jolting as if he’d remembered something urgent or had one of those nightmares where you felt like you were falling. His autopilot response to these abrupt wake-ups was to jump out of bed and head to the gym. She was starting to think he was obsessed with exercise, but considering the alternatives, this had to be one of the better addictions he could have. He always seemed relaxed, refreshed, and focused after a workout. When they first met, he’d mentioned needing a physical outlet to clear his head, and apparently, that was still true today. She hadn’t noticed this odd trait when they’d married the first time. Then again, they hadn’t spent that much time together, and he’d been trying to salvage his businesses.
Through closed eyelids, she saw a flash of light. Roth hated unnecessary sound, so he usually kept his phone on silent. Who was trying to contact him at 2:30 a.m.? She crawled to his side of the bed and picked up his cell to read the name on display.
Grayson Ward.
She tried to calculate the time difference in London as she flopped on his side of the bed and breathed in his scent. Was Grayson involved in the project Roth was worried about? It must be important if Grayson was calling at the crack of dawn across the pond. He didn’t strike her as the type to keep normal business hours.
She drifted back to sleep but roused when her hair was smoothed back from her face. She tried to open her eyes, but they felt like they were glued shut. Mornings had never been her forte, and this... This couldn’t be considered morning. This was the devil’s hour.
She heard clothes rustling and then a quiet, “Grayson.” Pause. “What happened?”
She heard a buzzing noise as Grayson spoke. This got a grunt from Roth. She couldn’t tell whether that meant what Grayson was saying was good or bad.
“I’ll handle it when I’m at the office.” A beat of silence and then, “No, I’m not at the office. Do you know what time it is here?”
She heard the faint sound of a man shouting something and then hysterical laughter.
“Go fuck yourself.”
That made her eyes open in time to see Roth slip the phone into his pocket.
“Is everything okay?” she asked, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand.
“Yes. Sorry I woke you. I’m going to head out.” He leaned over to nuzzle her. “Sleep, princess. You don’t need to be up now.”
“You are.”
“I’m not a princess.”
“Neither am I,” she retorted, and he chuckled.
“You’re my princess who needs her beauty sleep.”
She looped her arm around his neck. “I can’t convince you to come back to bed?”
As if he couldn’t help himself, he cupped her breast and then leaned down to flick her nipple with his tongue. “If I stay, neither of us will get any rest.”
“I don’t mind.” She tried to sound seductive but ruined it with a yawn.
He straightened. “Sleep. I’ll see you later.”
“I’m worried about you,” she slurred.
“Don’t. I’m fine.”
He kissed her bare shoulder before pulling the duvet up to her chin. She sensed more than heard him leave. She couldn’t open her eyes to confirm, but his energy, so distinct and dominant when he was present, made the room feel empty when he exited.
She buried her face in the pillow and let out a heartfelt groan. She was proud of herself for waking up at six or seven, but Roth was a damn slave driver. How he managed to run a billion-dollar company, making dozens of decisions every day while getting so little sleep she couldn’t comprehend. And that was on top of the physical demands he made on his body. When did he recuperate mentally and physically? He needed a vacation... She snorted. He had no fucking clue what that was. He’d probably go insane if she stranded him on a tropical island with no internet.
She lay there for what felt like an hour, going back and forth between her body’s need for sleep and worrying about him. Eventually, she reached for her phone. She held it at arm’s length as she texted Mo and Johan in their group text.
Are you up?
If they didn’t answer, there was no sense in getting up. She wasn’t sure whether she was pleased or disappointed to see the bubbles appear as one of them began to write a response. Did she wake them, or...?
