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“How about I move to the Magnolia Suite? We can leave the adjoining door open.”
“No.”
I lifted up. “Ian!”
He pulled me back down. “No. We’ll talk more later, but that’s the caveat. If we stay, you’re with me.”
“This is the zaniest courtship on record,” I griped.
“I’m not courting you. I’m trying to keep your mind in one piece so you can pay attention when I fuck you. You’ll want that too, just to say.”
“Arrogant.”
“Maybe, also true.”
“I’m not talking to you anymore.”
“Good. Then sleep.”
I humphed.
Ian held me closer.
I was still holding the ice to my head, which was a good excuse not to hold him back.
I thought I’d stay awake, but I woke up from a snooze when the ice bag skidded into my face.
Ian took it and tossed it to the floor.
“Go back to sleep,” he murmured drowsily.
It was only then I slipped my arm around him.
And I went back to sleep.
Twenty-Three
THE BEDROOM
I sensed a kerfuffle and opened my eyes to see Rebecca and Harriett moving through Ian’s bedroom.
With my suitcases.
I got up on an elbow, wincing a bit due to a twinge in my temple.
“You woke her up,” Rebecca said under her breath.
“Sorry, Daphne,” Harriett said to me.
“That’s okay,” I mumbled.
“We’ll just get on with this,” Rebecca replied.
And then they disappeared into Ian’s bathroom, and, my guess, beyond, where his closet probably was (I hadn’t snooped, but I was clearly going to need to change that this morning).
I turned my head when I saw movement out of the corners of my eyes and watched Ian striding to me.
He was ready to face the day. Jeans. An oatmeal T-shirt. An army-green, shawl-collar, cable-knit cardigan.
