Page 35

Aidan sits up. I can just about discern his outline in the dim room.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, but if you give me any longer to think it over, I might change my mind.”

That’s all the encouragement he needs. He stands, pads over, then slips under the duvet.

“Bloody hell!” I squeak when his bare leg brushes mine. “You really are cold.”

“Aye, and you’re all lovely and warm.” He’s on his side, facing me. “And your jammies are just as soft as I thought they’d be. Can I snuggle up to you?”

“Right, back on the floor, now!”

“I’m only joking. I’ll keep my distance, I promise.” He turns his back to me and settles. Within minutes, his breathing becomes slow and steady.

Has he drifted off already? No way. I’m jealous. I’ve never been able to nod off that quickly.

I fixate on the silhouette of Aidan’s strong shoulders as they rise and fall with each breath. Once I’m sure he’s in a deep sleep, I wriggle closer, tucking my knees up behind his, so we’re touching—just. I close my eyes and relax.

I’m loath to admit this, and I’d never tell Aidan, but as much as I’ve thrived on being independent the last couple of years, the truth is there’s something comforting about a man’s presence in my bed. It makes me feel . . . safe.

With my body nestled against his, sleep finally finds me too.

When I wake up, a weak morning light is spilling into the room. I rub at my bleary eyes then freeze when I hear a man’s guttural grunts. Turning my head, I see Aidan is no longer in the bed beside me.

More grunting, low and primal. The floor creaks.

Oh God. Given Aidan’s large number of former partners, he obviously has a high sex drive. But surely he’s not “seeing” to that, is he?

With a mixture of trepidation and, I’ll admit, curiosity, I peek over the side of the bed, only to spy Aidan’s boxer-brief-clad arse going up and down. His back is bare and taut, his T-shirt discarded, his broad shoulders and biceps contracting and flexing in a steady rhythm. With every upward push, a deep growl escapes his lips.

“Oh! You’re doing press-ups.”

He sinks to his knees then shifts into a seated position, stretching his long legs out in front of him, slightly apart, and leaning back on his hands. There’s a rosy hue to his cheeks, and his chest and abs glisten with sweat. For a moment, I’m transported to the engagement party, memories of our entwined bodies flooding my mind.

“Morning,” Aidan says between breaths. “Aye, just doing my pre-breakfast workout.” His face scrunches up. “Wait, what did you think I was doing?”

“Oh . . . er . . .”

I can’t stop my eyes from drifting to his sculpted underwear. I objected to them last night, and I stand by my comments. They’re obscene! I mean, everything is right there, behind a very thin layer of material, and yet he’s not self-conscious in the slightest. Am I just a prude?

Aidan follows my gaze then looks back up at me, his mouth twisting into a grin. “What did you think I was doing?” he repeats, more insistent this time.

“Nothing,” I mumble.

He climbs to his feet and does a few stretches in front of me. “Say it, Grace!”

I’m still on the bed, so his bulge is now at my eye level. He’s playing with me. Clearly.

I turn away, heat creeping up my neck. “I’m not saying it, and could you please put that thing away?”

“You’re too easy to wind up.” Aidan chuckles. “Be honest with me: you thought I was masturbating, didn’t you? You have such a low opinion of me.”

“I . . . er . . . how about you go for a shower then put some clothes on? Please!”

“Aye, or maybe we could do our bit for the environment and shower together? We’ve only got one planet, Grace.”

I glance at his grinning face then look away again. I know he’s teasing, but blood still rushes to my cheeks. “Could you pass me something so I can throw it at you? All I’ve got here is a pillow, and that’s not hard enough.”