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“Okay, okay. Guess I’ll be calling you every time a blowing leaf startles me. That only happens ten times a day lately.”
I snort.
“And I’ll answer every time. Better to call you crazy than dead.” I bend my head, resting my temple to hers, just leaning into her and soaking her in. Part of me still remembers the spindly girl she used to be, but right now my arms are overflowing with the lushness of pure woman.
“If you insist, Grant,” she says matter-of-factly.
“I do. I got a bad feeling. Think that shitstorm that started with the Arrendells and Delilah Graves hasn’t fully died down. That man who jumped you, I think those clothes he’s wearing were Arrendell livery. Y’know, staff uniforms. They might’ve sent him down here to watch us. You, me, I’m not sure which.”
Ophelia makes a thoughtful sound, sucking her lower lip in a way that makes me want to bite it.
“Why would they be after me?”
Good question.
“It could just be keeping you away from Ros, if our boy’s on Aleksander’s payroll,” I say. “Everyone and their grandma must know you wouldn’t be happy about her marrying that mannequin-looking fuck. So maybe Jeeves is tailing you so you won’t try to break things up.”
“Psssh, like I could stop Ros from doing whatever she wants.” She smiles bitterly. “But why would they be followingyou?”
“Because I got a weird fucking feeling about that suicide up at the house,” I say grimly. “Maybe I’m just jumping at spooks or being paranoid myself. Who knows. Still, something ain’t smelling right.”
“You know...”
“Oh no.” She’s got that look in her eye, thoughtful and goddamned obstinate. I eyeball her something fierce. “What? What are you about to say? It’s gonna piss me off, ain’t it”
“Yes? What doesn’t?” Ophelia grins. “I was just thinking there’s an easy way to find out.”
“No.”
“Grant, it wouldn’t be that hard.”
“Absolutely not.”
My blood heats.
“Comeonnn.” She sticks her tongue out, wrinkling her nose. “We’re all adults here. We might as well take the direct route and just ask him. If he shows up again, I’ll get him to explain why he grabbed me and what he’s talking about, death threats and all. Sometimes even mentally unwell folks just want to be heard.”
I side-eye her hard.
Like hell I’m going to approve something that crazy.
But I can already tell she’s made her mind up and nothing I say or do is gonna sway her.
Groaning, I thump my head back against the headboard.
“Whatever. Just don’t let him corner you alone, Ophelia—if he actually pops up. I don’t trust it. You catch him in public, around other people, fine. But if you’re alone, you get the fuck out of there as fast as you can shake your tail.”
“Shake my tail, huh?”
Her wicked little smile is my only warning before there’s a lush, hot body on mine.
Even if I’m not fully awake, it doesn’t take much more than the pressure of Ophelia’s weight against me to make sure there’s a certain part of me absolutely up and fucking ready by the time she slides her gorgeous thighs across my lap and straddles me.
So much for staying mad.
She’s so goddamned breathtaking it floors me, this vision of gold flesh straining against the thin sheet wrapped around her body till she looks like one of those old statues where the folds of carved fabric look translucent, tempting me more than concealing.
Her tits strain against the white fabric, threatening to spill free from the hand barely holding the sheet in place as she settles against me.
