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Had she cried herself to sleep? What other reason would her eyelashes be wet? Allergies?
And more importantly, if she indeed had cried…why? Because she worried about him, or because she couldn’t stand being with someone like him?
His heart lurched at the thought. Cursing under his breath, he leaned in to kiss her forehead. Her lids slowly fluttered open, and her sleepy green gaze met his.
“I’m sorry, Sabrina,” he whispered. Confusion crossed her features until he ran a finger over her cheek.
“No, don’t be.” She let out a big yawn and her eyes drifted shut.
He shook his head and leaned over her to scoop her into his arms and up the stairs. Though she stirred when he picked her up, she quickly relaxed once he assured her he was only carrying her to bed. She let out a soft snore, and he glanced down in surprise. He bit his lip to keep his laughter at bay, barely succeeding.
She’d just love to know she snored in front of him.
He laid her in bed and gently placed the covers over her body. He saw something black sticking out from under the pillow and reached underneath. He chuckled as he retrieved the huge butcher knife. She apparently slept armed now. He rolled his eyes and put it on the table next to her bed. Still within reach, but he didn’t need to worry about her hurting herself in her sleep. After casting one last longing look at her, he spun on his heel and headed for the door.
He planned on spending the night. Downstairs, of course.
“Why are you always taking my knife?” she grumbled. He turned to see her leaning on her elbow, her long hair cascading to the mattress beneath her. Did she know how tempting she appeared? How much she tortured him by making him stay in the same room, when he couldn’t do a damn thing to ease his hunger? Her face was softened by sleep, and her hair tousled as if he had been running his fingers through it.
“I didn’t take it. I moved it somewhere safer. It’s right next to you, still in arm’s reach.” He gestured to her table, and she followed his movement before pinning her gaze back on him. Her eyes glowed in the moonlight. He bit back a groan and shifted on his feet.
“Well, good night.”
“Please, stay,” she whispered. He made it to the doorway, only to stop at her words.
His heart lurched in his chest at the words she spoke, and the feeling behind them. To his ears, it seemed like she asked him to stay by her side forever.
No, only his foolish heart imagined hearing what it so longed to hear. Nothing more, nothing less.
Idiot.
He returned to the bed and cupped her face in his hands. “I am. I’ll be on the couch. I’m not leaving.”
She shook her head. “No, please stay here. In my bed.”
Surprise racked over him at her words, followed by a jolt of lust so strong he thought he might double over from it. He wasted no time removing his shirt and smiled as he noted her swift intake of breath.
It seemed only fair she be as turned on by him as he was by her.
Climbing into bed, he saw the desire burning in her eyes and fought down the answering surge in him. He grew hard as she scooted back against him, her soft buttocks teasing his erection. She wouldn’t turn him away if he persisted, but he knew now wouldn’t be the right time for seduction. She’d been worn down by exhaustion. He couldn’t take advantage of her.
No matter how much he longed to rip her clothes from her body and bury himself inside her welcoming warmth.
Bloody hell, it’s going to be a long night.
She tilted her face to his and whispered, “Kiss me.”
He swallowed past the lump that appeared in his throat and groaned at the answering twinge in his cock at her words. He’d love to kiss her.
Everywhere.
He almost denied her the affection out of self-preservation, but in the end, the temptation proved too much to bear. He crushed his lips to hers and plunged his tongue possessively into her mouth. He briefly enjoyed the sweet taste of her, scared to allow himself more. He tore away from her addictive mouth, closed his eyes, and counted to three before kissing her nose, and turning her away from him. He buried his face in her hair and smiled as her fragrance washed over him.
Mmm…he could spend at least the next fifty years in her hair. God willing, he would.
A little snore escaped her as he lay beside her, keeping watch.
Chapter Eight
