“Charming,” I counter.
“Clover, there’s barely two feet of space around three sides of the bed.”
“Why do you need more space? You can just crawl up like this.” I’m halfway up the mattress when a low growl fills the silence.
I pause, and only then do I realize my predicament. I’m on the bed, on all fours, waving my ass at my bodyguard.
Slowly, I glance over my shoulder to find one giant wall of muscle staring at me with such heat, I’ll surely melt right into the mattress.
Valen’s jaw ticks as he scans my body from my ankles to my eyes, and the heat in his gaze has my stomach hollowing out. He stares at me as though I’m the sexiest woman he’s ever met, and it injects questionable amounts of confidence into my system.
I roll my hips, and my core clenches when that sound erupts from his chest again as he stares at my ass.
Who am I, and what’s happened to Clover Danforth—scarediest cat of the scaredy cats?
He runs a hand through his hair. “I should sleep in the RV with Chief.” His voice is hard, controlled. “But you shouldn’t be left alone. It’s?—”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. Besides.” I flop over, cross my legs at the ankles, and prop up my head with my arms folded beneath me. “We’ve already shared a bed. We’ll be fine.”
This newfound confidence is dangerous.
“This is different.” His tone is husky, and it sparks the embers of my desire.
“How?”
“Because—” He gestures vaguely before tugging on his hair as though he’s grasping for control. “It’s a bed-and-breakfast. It’s…romantic.” He tries to pace, but there’s literally nowhere for him to go. “There are quilts, for fuck’s sake.”
I bite back a laugh. “Are you afraid of quilts?”
“It’s what they represent.” He huffs, but I can’t tell if he’s frustrated with me, the situation, or himself.
“Which is?”
“Breakfast,” he barks.
A giggle slips free. “You’re scared of breakfast?”
“I’m not scared of anything.” He frowns, and even that’s sexy. “I’m worried about what it implies.”
What it implies. Right.
Because the walk-of-shame breakfast he’s so worried about implies that this thing between us carries on after my threat is resolved.
That’s obviously not his intention. He’s protecting himself from me, from my feelings—I am a job to him, after all.
Everything ends eventually.
Swallowing down the hurt, I aim for levity so he doesn’t know how many ways his words have sliced me open. “It implies that we eat in the morning?”
“That we eat. Together. The morning after…” He waves toward the bed again. “I’m going to be honest, Clover. I’ve already broken so many damn rules for you, and my resolve is only so strong, but I refuse to let anyone believe this is a cheap…hookup because I don’t hook up with clients. I don’t…sleep in the same bed, and I don’t?—”
“We kissed, Valen.” I sit up, then scoot to the end of the bed without making eye contact. “I think the propriety ship has sailed, don’t you? We’re both adults here, and we both know exactly what this is…” I swallow hard enough to make a sound. “And what it’s not.”
I feel his gaze on me, but when I don’t lift my head, he sighs. “You’re right.”
A porcupine is lodged in my throat and pokes me with her quills as I force out playful words I don’t feel. “I usually am.”
“Don’t let it go to your head.”
