She jumped to her feet. “You sleeping on the floor is not a one-bed situation!”
“One couch? Is it a one-couch situation?”
“Nash! Stop!” She wanted to touch him. She was afraid to touch him. She was afraid of everything. Her arms crossed over her chest. “I heard the orders you gave. There is a semi-army of agents surrounding the cabin now. No one else is going to get past them.”
“No one should have ever gotten past the exterior agents—or past me—in the first place.”
She swallowed. “You were outside…” Delaney began.
He stepped closer. “I wasn’t close enough to you. That mistake won’t be made again. When you sleep, I’ll be right next to you.”
“But—”
“It’s a done deal. So we either bunk down here, with you on the couch and me on the floor, or we go upstairs and sleep in my bed.”
Despite her previous words, the couch was not, in fact, fine. The couch was lumpy. Old. Narrow. And she didn’t want him on the floor. But the idea of being in bed with him set off all kinds of alarm bells. “How big is the bed?”
His eyes narrowed. “How terrified of me are you?”
Her chin notched up. “That is not an answer to my question.”
“Fine. You answer my question, and then I’ll answer yours.”
The front door squeaked. Her head whipped toward the sound. Ryan crept inside, wincing. “Sorry. Feels like I just interrupted something.” He pursed his lips. “You guys want to take this upstairs? I’d really like to crash on that couch. It’s a more central location than the back bedroom that’s down here on the first floor, and, if I’m on the couch, I’ll be able to spring into action faster from this location. Should, you know, any would-be kidnappers or killers make an appearance.”
If Ryan was taking the couch, then she didn’t really have a choice. Brisk, determined, she nodded and began walking for the stairs. The robe she wore swirled around her feet. She’d grabbed the robe right before the other agents arrived. The soft, white cotton robe skimmed her ankles and fell all the way to her elbows.
As she mounted the stairs, she was far too aware of Nash following behind her. She could feel him. Warm. Strong. Determined.
Her eyes were up, focused ahead. She reached the landing, then turned to the right. Her fast footsteps led her past her room, and Delaney only paused when she was at the bedroom that had been designated for Nash.
“Queen-size bed,” he told her. “So it will be a tight fit.”
She wet her lips. He’d finally answered her question. Was she still supposed to answer his? Truth be told, she’d really love to avoid a response to his query. How terrified of me are you? Delaney reached for the doorknob and swung open the door. Her fingers hit the light switch.
The covers were still in place. The bed made. Unlike her, Nash had never gone to sleep.
And it was, indeed, a queen-size bed. Given Nash’s massive proportions, it was certainly going to be a tight fit, as he’d said.
She made sure the belt of her robe was extra snug as she made her way across the bedroom. Delaney hauled back some of the covers and slid as far to the right side of the bed as possible. Practically hanging off the edge.
Nash watched her. Again, she felt his stare.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he said. His fingers slid over the light switch.
Darkness.
But the floor creaked, and she saw his shadowy form moving around the room. He went toward the window. Peered out.
“I don’t, uh, remember your question,” she lied.
“How much do I terrify you?”
“Oh, right, that question.” She blew out a long breath. “On a scale of one to ten? Is that what you’re asking?”
More creaking of the floor. And then the bed dipped. He’d just slid onto the mattress.
Her shoulders tensed.
