Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“Getting a glass of water.”
“Were you watching me sleep?”
He ignores my question. “You’re uncomfortable. Come to bed.”
“There is no bed. That’s your room. This is mine.” I flop back down with a groan. “I can’t believe you’re starting this argument again. What time is it?”
“Two in the morning.”
I rub my face with a sigh and pull the thin blanket up to my chin. “Goodnight, Cormac.”
“You’ll be more comfortable with me.” He comes closer. I turn my head to look at him. All those defined curves between each swell of his abdomen. The curve of his collarbones. His incredible chest. The man’s a specimen. It’s freakish, honestly. My heart thuds rapidly. “I promise I won’t touch.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Unless you want me to.”
“Definitely not.”
“I have an extra pillow already. There’s space. You need rest, Bianca.”
“I’m fine here.”
“You’re not.” He kneels down beside me. His voice softens. “I know you want to keep your distance. I feel the same way. But at least we can be reasonable about this.”
What’s reasonable about sleeping in bed with him? I try to make that make sense, and nothing adds up.
Instead, I’m left trembling. He’s close and beautiful, and it’s so damn late. I’m tired, achy, and ready to pass out again.
What’s the harm in going upstairs?
I breathe in deep. That’s my ghost. My handsome, terrifying ghost.
“Promise you won’t touch me.”
“You have my word, and I swear, I’ll never lie to you.”
I kick my legs out over the couch. He steps back and offers me a hand.
“Fine, but your bed better be more comfortable.”
I glare at the little smile on his face. The arrogant bastard looks very pleased with himself.
The stairs groan underfoot. I stumble after, yawning. He climbs into the right side and I take the left, and right away, I’m pretty sure this was the best decision of my life.
The bed’s like a cloud. The sheets are silky soft.
And everything smells like him.
I didn’t know I could feel so comforted by a stupid scent. But here I am, breathing deep and smiling to myself.
I know it’s stupid. I mean, he was lurking in the kitchen, for God’s sake. The creep was probably staring at me for hours.
That should scare me shitless.
Except I’ve been living with my ghost for a long time now. Who knows how many other nights he stood there staring at me?
It’s kind of sweet.
He likes his wife.
In a really unnerving sort of way, but still.
I’m definitely only half awake if I find him endearing right now.
Brain’s not all there.
Not functioning real good.
“Goodnight,” my husband whispers.
“Night-night, ghost,” I whisper back, my body all weightless and heavy and slow.
Chapter 14
Bianca
Iroll onto my side and snuggle tightly against the sheets, breathing nice and deep and smiling to myself. It smells so stinking good in this bed. And the mattress? I’m basically sleeping on a freaking cloud. I always thought I had it good back home, but here—
I open my eyes suddenly, heart racing. For a second, I forgot where I was.
And now I definitely remember.
Horrified, I look over, expecting to see shirtless Cormac sleeping next to me.
Instead, the bed’s empty.
Just an impression of his body and the sheets thrown back.
Relief washes over me. I really didn’t want to face my new husband this morning.
I told myself I wasn’t going to do this. Sleep on the couch like a big girl. Don’t give in! But somehow that guy wove a magic spell last night and led me up into his stupidly comfortable room like the freaking Pied Piper of good sleep.
I groan and stretch.
Now I’m spoiled rotten.
How am I supposed to go back to the couch after this?
“He knows what he’s doing,” I groan to myself, shimmying my hips and really grinding down into the mattress. “God, I really hate him.” I roll onto my side and curl into a ball, smiling to myself with a long sigh. “He’s pure evil.”
Another hour of sleep and I finally drag myself up. All my clothes are stashed in the empty room so I have to sneak in there, grab what I need, and quickly get changed before my husband decides to come storming in on me while I’m in my underwear. And with his timing, he’d make sure I’m bent over or something, right in the most compromising position possible.
Lucky for me, I manage to muddle through my morning routine. It’s a little after seven when I head downstairs, thinking about coffee, maybe some toast, only to find Cormac standing in the living room with a watering can lovingly tending to his plants.
I stand and watch, fascinated. He’s in workout gear and I’m guessing that’s why he was up so early. There’s a light sweat on his body still and it glistens as the morning sun slants through the windows. He practically glows, and I feel something shifting in my guts. A strange, grinding yearning.