Page 48 of Sinful Storms

I dug out a soft black T-shirt from my drawers. It was a loose fit on me, so it would be huge on her and hopefully comfortable enough to sleep in. “Here. Do you think you can manage to change? I don’t want to undress you while you’re like this?—”

“I can manage,” she slurred, some of her usual fire returning to her voice, and I smiled. As I helped her upright, propping my pillows behind her back, she blinked down at the T-shirt. “It’s black.”

“Yeah.” I shrugged. “You like wearing black.” Before she could read anything into that, I stepped back and turned away, leaving her to get changed while I dug out a sick bowl and paracetamol. When I’d done that, I filled a pint glass with water from the drinking fountain in the corridor and returned to my room.

While I was sorting everything out, Aria had managed to put my T-shirt on, leaving her dress and bra in a crumpled heap on the floor. Scooping them up, I placed them on my desk chair, realising as I did so that her shoes were nowhere to be seen.

“Where are your shoes?”

“Huh?” Her lashes fluttered, her brow furrowing. “Oh. Forgot to take them off…sorry.”

“It’s okay. Don’t move. I’ll take them off.” I lowered myself to the edge of the bed, sliding my hand beneath the duvet to reach her feet. As I unstrapped her shoes, she groaned.

“I feel so drunk.”

“You are drunk, baby. Take those paracetamols and drink all that water, okay? It’ll help. Do you know what you drank?”

She was silent for a moment, following my instructions to take the tablets, and downed a third of the pint. Wiping at her mouth, she nodded her head slowly. “Raspberry vodka…from the shop?—”

“By the train station?” I finished. No wonder she was wasted.

“Yes.”

“Okay. You can sleep it off now, and tomorrow, I’ll sneak down to the kitchens and charm Mrs. Smith so she’ll make you a bacon roll.”

“Will you stay?”

“Yeah. I’ll stay in Knox’s bed. He never uses it—he sleeps in his private room in the crypts with Elena.”

“Stay here. With me. Please,” she whispered, making an attempt to pat the sliver of space next to her.

Fuck. Okay.This means nothing, Tristan. She’s drunk and wants comfort. It would be the same with whoever was here.

While she lay down, her eyes fluttering closed again, I changed into cashmere joggers and a fresh T-shirt and then slid into my bed next to her. It was a tight fit, but as soon as she curled into me with a sigh, resting her head on my chest, I forgot all about the lack of space. Wrapping my arm around her and tugging her closer, I closed my own eyes, although I knew sleep wouldn’t come.

25

ARIA

My head felt as if it was simultaneously being squeezed in a vice and attacked by hundreds of tiny hammers. I groaned, shifting and then freezing in place when I realised I was pressed up against a body. A warm, solid body with a muscular arm that was wrapped around me, holding me securely in place.

“How are you feeling?” a voice asked, all soft and raspy from sleep. Last night came flooding back to me. Drinking to forget…Graham…Tristan appearing…had he carried me somewhere?

“Where—” I cleared my throat when my voice cracked and tried again. “Where am I?”

“In my room. You should probably drink some water and have more tablets.”

Oh.Oh. I was in Tristan’s room. No. Not only in his room but in his bed,withhim. I groaned again, wishing I was having a drunken hallucination.

“I’m sorry.”

He huffed out a breath, tickling my face as a few flyaway strands of hair blew across my cheek. “No need to apologise. We’ve all been there.” His tone was cautious, and I wonderedif he expected me to be angry about the fact we were in bed together. I was pretty sure I’d been the one to ask him to stay, though, if my hazy memories could be trusted.

Now I was here…I had no excuse not to talk to him about the information I’d discovered yesterday.

I groaned again as the hammering in my head increased. I’d talk to him…after I’d medicated.

Forty minutes later, I was feeling much more human. Tristan had managed to sweet-talk one of the kitchen staff into making us bacon rolls, the tablets were working their magic, and I’d forced down two full pints of water. Sitting up in his bed, leaning against the wall, I dabbed my face with a tissue, doing my best to remove some of my smeared make-up without the use of proper make-up remover.

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