"I can't take your bed. I'm fine sleeping on the couch," I say, looking around his small cabin.
"I'm the host, and my grandmother would haunt me forever if I let a woman I just rescued sleep on the couch," he says, softly laughing.
My disloyal pussy hums hearing his deep chuckle.
"Alana, I have some clothes you could sleep in, although they'll probably be quite large on you," he says.
"I actually have a suitcase in my trunk. I was heading down to Branwen Beach because I was going to spend the holidays there."
"Oh, you have a place in Branwen Beach?" Lorne asks casually. Given that he knows I'm from Northern California, I wonder if he's judging me for owning multiple homes.
"Yeah. I bought myself a beach house."
"Wow, that's nice. Let me grab your keys. I can go get your suitcase," he says, standing up.
I'm surprised by how warm and friendly Lorne is behaving toward me after the way he treated me at Mare Pacificum.
A minute later, the mountain man returns covered in snow with my suitcase. I change in his bathroom into the cozy flannel pajamas I packed for the beach house. When I step out, he gives me an appreciative once-over, sending my pussy into betrayal mode once more.
"Listen, Alana," Lorne says. "I'm really sorry that I acted like a pompous ass on our blind date. That was wrong of me, and I was projecting my shit onto you, but I shouldn't have. I shouldn't broad-brush people like that."
"Thanks. I mean, I can understand the negative feelings, though," I say.
"Yeah. But that doesn't mean I should project them onto you. I didn't even know you."
We stand looking at each other uncomfortably for a beat before I grab my toothbrush and return to the bathroom to wash up.
The howling wind outside wakes me, and I blink my eyes open, seeing that it is the middle of the night. Lying there, listening to the storm, I realize I can hear Lorne moving restlessly on the couch.
Pushing myself up to my elbows, I whisper, "Have you gotten any sleep?"
"It doesn't matter. Did you just wake up?"
"Yeah. Just from the wind. But what do you mean, it doesn't matter? Have you slept at all?"
"Don't worry about it. I'll fall asleep. I think it's just the wind outside that's keeping me up."
I swing my legs over the side of the bed. "That's it. You're sleeping in your own bed tonight." When he protests, I cut himoff. "We'll both sleep in it. I'll build a pillow wall down the middle."
Laughing as I gather more pillows in the living room, I say, "You have an impressive number of throw pillows for a man."
A couple of minutes later, we're both in bed with a pillow wall between us, but my entire body hums with desire. Being this close to such a ruggedly handsome man is torture.
8
Lorne
I blink my eyes open to see brightness filtering through the windows, though the storm continues to rage. Stretching, I remember my overnight guest and glance over to see the curvy billionaire curled up on the other side of the bed. When I realize I'm rock hard, I jump up horrified and rush into the bathroom, turning the shower to ice cold.
After torturing myself with the icy shower, I dry off and throw on jeans and a plaid shirt. I walk out to find my surprise guest sliding an egg casserole into the oven. Alana then showers as the breakfast cooks, filling my small cabin with the delicious smells of bacon and coffee brewing.
When the casserole is ready, we sit down together and eat quietly at the table. Alana takes a sip of her coffee and studies me with her dark brown eyes.
"Listen, Lorne. Thank you for rescuing me."
Shaking my head, I say, "Of course. I would never leave you out in the snow. That would have been a death sentence."
"Well, yeah, even so, thank you. I'm sort of butting into your whole holiday week here."
