Over the past few days, Erik’s stunning photos had filled Adam’s private Instagram feed, many of them showing Bestemor having the time of her life, from enjoying high tea at Fortnum & Mason to looking up at Big Ben, posing in front of a red phone booth and admiring the Horse Guards near Buckingham Palace, to a video of her standing on the hotel balcony with Tower Bridge slowly rising in the background.
It was great to see Grandma away from her little house in Norway, enjoying her travels. She even took a selfie in front of the Norwegian Embassy at Belgrave Square. Knowing her, she probably made some friends there too.
Jannie itched to check for updates, but Nick slept beside her, and she knew that sitting up and reaching for her phone would wake him. The man, she had learned, was a light sleeper. And he needed the rest.
Jannie closed her eyes. She needed sleep too, but it wouldn’t come.
I want to come.
Propping herself on her elbow, she studied his handsome face. Nick hadn’t initiated tonight. He had returned exhausted from a back-to-back after being held up for several hours at Miami airport because of a ground stop. He’d gratefully eaten the dinner she reheated for him, showered, and headed straight to bed.
Her gaze lingered on his chiseled jawline, and she burned with thedesire to press her lips to it. One hand rested on his sculpted chest, and she stared at his fingers, remembering what he had done to her with them the morning he’d left.
Her Kegel muscles tightened around the tingles there. She wanted to feel him inside her, thrusting deep, filling her as only he could. No matter how many times she had him, it never felt like enough, and each time was better than the last.
Why was that? She didn’t dare analyze it.
From his bed on the floor, Rolf whined softly. Jannie frowned as she looked at her dog, who was intently focused on Nick. He whined again a little louder, and she glared at him, giving the hand signal forquiet.
Rolf settled down, his big head on his paws, shooting her a wounded look. Jannie stifled a snicker. No dog could give that accusatory look better than a German Shepherd.
Beside her, Nick began to shift. Was he waking up? No, he was shaking.
Oh no.
“Nick?” she said softly.
The next second, pain exploded in her leg. She cried out, but he didn’t hear her. He had kneed her, she realized. Hard.
This wasn’t the first time he’d had a bad dream, but none of them had ever been like this.
His head moved from side to side, his chest rising and falling more rapidly with each passing second. His hands fisted the sheets, and he began thrashing, muttering words she couldn’t comprehend.
Rolf leapt to his feet and whined again, his eyes nervously darting between Jannie and Nick. Jannie snapped her fingers and pointed, and the dog sat, his round eyes still wide.
“No,” Nick gritted through his teeth. “No … Stop!”
He was shaking now, his body jerking so violently that Jannie feared he’d fall off the bed. Before she knew what she was doing, she climbed on top of him and tried in vain to catch his flailing hands, ignoring everything she knew about the dangers of interacting with someone in the throes of a night terror.
He could turn violent. He could—
“Leave her alone.” He made a sound much like a sob. “Please.”
Oh, Nick. Her heart squeezed. This was bad.
“Nick!” She patted his cheek.
He just thrashed harder.
“Nick, wake up!” She patted his cheek a little harder.
He bucked then, nearly knocking her off him, and Jannie realized she had no other choice: wincing, she drew her hand back and slapped him as hard as she could.
His eyes snapped open with a startled grunt.
He exhaled sharply, blinking as his beautiful eyes took on a terrifying, glassy look.
“I’m so sorry I hit you.” She traced her fingertips along his cheek, now reddening with her palm print. “I had to. You wouldn’t wake up.”
