“Nearly home,” Hone said. “You can sleep without worrying about clowns.”
Cassie lay in the comfy bed in Hone’s spare room. Each of the four windows were locked. Hone had set the alarm. She should feel safe, but every clock tick, every car rumble, every unfamiliar creak had her bolting upright, fear rioting, cold sweat bursting across her skin. Every time she closed her eyes, the clown did acha-cha-chaacross her eyelids. White face. Scarlet lips. Bubble nose. Creepy. The lyrics of the song resounded in a loop-de-loop. Creepy.So creepy.
A harsh squeak had her halfway to the door before the order from her brain. At the repeat of the creak, she darted through the doorway, down the passage to Hone’s bedroom—the one he’d pointed out earlier. She skidded through the doorway, despite the darkness, despite her lack of glasses, despite the skimpy nightclothes, the bad boy danger. She blundered forward, barked her knees on the bed.
“Oomph.” She caught her weight on her hands and straightened to rub the sore spots.
“Cassie, what’s wrong?” His husky voice guided her.
“Noises.” Like a heat-seeking missile, she headed for safety.
“What sort of noises?” The covers whispered as he changed position.
“Groans and thumps. Squeaks.”
“Get into bed to keep warm while I do a security check.” The floor creaked, and she widened her eyes to see the blur of Hone and what he wore—or didn’t wear—to bed.
“I…um…”
His voice. It got to her—strummed and plucked her nerves in a different way. This time the quakes working through her body had nothing to do with her crazy day, everything to do withhim.
“Cassie.” His voice soothed, a gentle calm-the-wild-animal inflection. “Do as you’re told. I’ll be back once I’ve done recon.”
She shuffled, still night-blind, lack-of-glasses blind, using her hand to guide her to the head of the bed. Tension kept her shoulders stiff, and she strained to hear. She’d never forgive herself if danger had followed her to Hone’s home.
“Cassie?”
She let out a shriek.
Without warning, light flooded the bedroom.
“Cassie, it’s me.”
“Did you find anything?” She tried not to focus on his naked chest. Her gaze skittered down to his form-fitting boxer-briefs. Not much better. She wrenched her gaze away and settled for watching his face. He sported a grin.
“Nothing out of the ordinary,” he murmured.
For a naughty second, she speculated if he meant outside or in his boxer-briefs. “I…” She wrapped her arms around herself again, pressing her oversize T-shirt to her unbound breasts. “Um…don’t look at me like that. I can’t concentrate.”
“Me neither,” he whispered. “Go back to bed, Cassie.”
“I can’t sleep,” she wailed. “I close my eyes and I see clowns. C-can I stay with you?”
“Is that a good idea?”
“You won’t hurt me.”
“That’s not what I meant. If you keep up the silent invitations, I will forget myself and kiss you. You’ve had a rough day.”
Before she could answer, he pulled back the covers and gestured for her to get into the bed. The light switched off the second she cuddled into the duvet. While she’d experienced a chill earlier, now heat raced across her skin.
The mattress dipped and her breath caught. “I’m not imagining clowns now.”
“Good.”
“I’m thinking about you kissing me.”
Was that a groan? It could’ve been a tetchy sigh. “Cassie, you’ve had a hard day. You’re bruised and someone tried to frighten you. Go to sleep.”
Cassie flopped onto her side, huffed out her frustration. Emma would never believe this scenario. She’d offered herself to Hone and received a rejection.
The bad boy had scruples.
