“You mean the loveseat?” I stare pointedly at the tiny two-seater with its heart-shaped throw pillows. I’m six-two. There’s no way I’m sleeping on that thing. “You can’t seriously expect me to pass up an opportunity to sleep in an actual bed, even one shaped like a heart.”
“Fine.” She throws back the blanket. “I’ll sleep on the couch, then.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no reason we can’t share this bed.”
“I can think of a dozen reasons we shouldn’t share a bed,” she shoots back, crossing her arms.
“Name one.”
She blinks.
“I’m waiting.”
“It’s a terrible idea,” she whispers.
She’s right, but I’m not about to admit it. Not when things are just getting interesting.
“We slept in the sleeping bag together.” Although slept might be too generous a word. The ground was hard as fuck, and the only redeeming part of the experience was waking to find Lucy’s soft, warm body pressed to mine.
“That was different,” she insists. “We were fully clothed.”
A quiet laugh escapes my lips. “Would you feel better if I promised to stay on my own side of the bed?”
Her eye roll is answer enough.
“Come on, Luce. We’re grown-ass adults. Sharing a bed is no big deal. Besides, this is what your followers had in mind when they picked this place, isn’t it?”
I’ve got her there, and she knows it.
“Why not give them what they want? There’s no harm in it.” Quite the opposite. “You said you wanted to be authentic, and now you want to lie to them?”
It’s a stretch, but…
“Who’s lying?” She throws up her hands and looks around. “Not me. I never agreed to share a bed. Only to stay the night.”
The lady doth protest too much.
I should leave it alone. That would be the smart move.
But no one’s ever accused me of being the brainy Hart brother, and tonight I’m feeling reckless. I could blame it on the champagne, but that would be a cop-out. I only had one glass, and it’s not the bubbly that’s got blood rushing from my head to my cock.
It’s the beautiful woman before me.
The woman who’s ruled my thoughts since the moment we left Austin.
I fix Lucy with a heated stare. “I promise not to touch you…unless you want me to.”
Her cheeks redden, and the blush creeps down her neck, blossoming anew on the smooth golden skin of her chest. I let my gaze drift lower, to the hard nipples straining against the thin fabric of her T-shirt.
So goddamn sexy.
She licks her lips, drawing my attention back to her face.
Our eyes meet, and I see my own wild desire reflected back at me.
Fuck it. If this is wrong, I don’t want to be right.
“Do you want me to touch you, Lucy?”
