Page 52 of The Rented Bride

Cassie jammed the phone to her ear. “I’m working, Sophia. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Working, my ass,” Sophia said before Cassie could hit the end call button.

Trent frowned. “What’s going on?”

“I-I’m sorry I woke you,” she blurted. “My cell phone rang.” She extended it as if it wasn’t obvious what she was talking about. “My cousin called.” It wasn’t a lie. It just wasn’t the whole truth.

“Is everything all right?” he asked.

She nodded. “Oh, yeah, sorry. Big family, remember? One of them is always calling.”

“It’s after midnight.”

She shrugged. “That’s family.”

“Okay.” He started to turn away, then stopped. “Are you going to stay in the closet?”

“Oh, of course not.”

He didn’t move and she realized he was waiting for her to come back into the room. Please, please, please move, she telepathed, but he didn’t. She drew her arms close to her body, determined not to touch him, and willed her legs to remain steady as she walked past him. Cassie released a breath and continued toward the bed. The closet light went out and she stopped, blind in the sudden darkness. She blinked in an effort to adjust her eyes to the moonlit room and edged forward. Warm fingers closed around her arm and she started.

“Come on.” Trent urged her forward.

They took three steps and her eyes adjusted enough to discern the bed. Trent released her and the side of her arm brushed his—what, ribs, belly? Cassie swallowed and scrambled into bed. She set the phone on the nightstand, her attention on Trent as he padded back to the couch.

He abruptly stopped. “You sure everything is okay?”

“Sure, why wouldn’t it be?” She gave thanks her voice sounded strong.

“I just wanted to be sure you don’t have any regrets.”

Regrets? She had plenty. But she knew what he meant. “Honestly, Trent, in my family, a call from a family member is not a momentous occasion.”

“Who’s Antonio?”

“What do you have, Vulcan hearing?” she muttered.

“Something like that.”

He waited and she realized he expected an answer. “He’s a guy my mother set me up with.”

“You didn’t tell me you were involved with anyone,” Trent said.

“Because I’m not. He was a blind date. We went out once.”

“A guy you went out with once called you at two in the morning?” he demanded.

“You said it was a little after midnight.”

“Here in Colorado,” he said. “In Miami, it’s after two.”

Dammit. He would notice that. “He’s from Italy. He may still be on Italian time.

Trent laughed. “That’s one of the lamest excuses I’ve ever heard for a late call.”

“Too bad,” Cassie said, and dragged the blanket over her head.

Cassie started awake, surprised by the sun that streamed through the windows. She blinked the digital clock on the nightstand into focus. 6:15. She sat up and draped her legs over the side of the bed.