“You are an amazing woman, Bridget,” he stated, letting his hands hang by his sides, even as his palms itched to feel her again. “Do you know that?”
Bridget’s eyes filled with relief and gratitude at his praise, and she smiled sweetly.
“Well, you are quite the gentleman,” she offered in return.
Adrian smirked, starting to hate the title of gentleman and all the requirements that came along with it. He turned away as the urge to touch her grew more intense and walked toward the bed.
“Yes, well, as a gentleman, I suppose I should allow you the bed and take the floor,” he said, grabbing one of the pillows.
He turned back around, ready to take the pillow to the rug in front of the fireplace, but was surprised to see that Bridget had closed the distance between them.
“You do not truly wish to sleep on this floor, do you?” she asked, looking genuinely worried for him.
“It will not be so awful,” Adrian said, nodding toward the spot he had picked out. “There is a rug, so I will not need to sleep against the floorboards, and the fire will keep me warm.”
“A rug is not a bed,” Bridget said with a small laugh. “And certainly not comfortable.”
“It is more comfortable than sleeping outside in the rain,” Adrian commented. “And the alternative would be you sleeping on the floor while I take the bed, and that I cannot abide.”
He turned to toss the pillow onto the floor, but as he let it go, Bridget’s hand clasped around it and tugged it backward. He turned back to her, looking at her curiously as she hugged thepillow to her chest.
“Perhaps we… we could share the bed,” she tentatively offered.
Adrian let out a huff of surprised laughter.
“You will not kiss me, but you want to share a bed with me?” he asked, half-teasing, half-serious.
“If you stay on your side and I stay on mine, I do not see why we cannot share the bed. As friends.”
“Friends,” Adrian stated, as if the word was foreign to him.
The word tasted bitter on his tongue. He could not be Bridget’sfriend.He did not lust after his friends. Did not want to part their thighs and taste them until they shook and they screamed his name.
His blood heated at the thought, damning him even further. Yet for a moment, he let the fantasy play out in his mind. He let himself picture Bridget, let himself give in to the mounting tension between them, and give them what they both craved.
For she craved it, too. Even if she said otherwise, those eyes of hers betrayed her words. Had seen how her pupils dilated and her breath caught in her throat when their lips had been so dangerously close.
“Friends,” Bridget agreed, her tone chipper as she placed the pillow back on the bed.
Adrian grimaced as he came back to reality, but did not argue. Instead, he watched her pull back the covers and climb into bed. As he lay down on the opposite end, purposely lying above the covers, he became acutely aware that it was going to be a long, torturous night.
He stared up at the ceiling, jaw tight, forcing his thoughts toward everything he had learned about Bridget that day—her kindness, her convictions, the quiet strength beneath her composure—instead of the relentless need pounding through his body. He exhaled sharply as his arousal, which had refused to fade for hours now, strained uncomfortably against the fabric of his trousers.
Adrian reached down, doing as much as he could to situate himself in a better position without touching himself too much. Every brush of his fingers was agony to his groin. Heso badlyneeded release.
He chuffed quietly at the thought. It was strange. After Evander’s passing, he had not spared a single thought for his needs. Now, though, with Bridget so close, with her deliciously light, feminine scent flooding his nostrils, he could not think of anything else. Had not been able to think of much else, since they had met.
Stop this,he chastised himself.You are a grown man. You are beyond this.
Adrian tried to push his thoughts back to his brother. The lead with Warren had died yet again, and he had to start fresh when he got back to London.
London. Where I met Bridget. Where I encountered her in front of the Blue Parrot, looking delicious and enticing in that ripped dress.
Adrian rubbed his face harshly. Thinking of his brother’s investigation was clearly not going to work. It seemed all roads of thought were leading him back to one person and one person alone.
Bridget.
“Bridget,” he said at last, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on the ceiling. “Earlier today… about the brooch. Why did you truly give Penny so much for it?”
