Page 72 of Her Fantasy Husband

Chapter Fourteen

When Lexi woke the next morning, she was alone.

Josh hadn’t come back last night. Had he gone home or somewhere else?

She’d tried to get hold of him to tell him that he was off the hook, and that her lawyer was looking into the quickest way to sever the knots that bound them.

Sally had told her Josh had left the office and she had no clue where he’d gone. Lexi had called his home number and his cell but gotten no response.

She tried to feel cheerful. Now she could start to live. Date even.

In some ways she’d been in limbo for the last few years. Her whole adult life, in fact. Except it hadn’t felt like that. She’d loved her life for the last five years. She was guessing that at eighteen she wouldn’t have been ready for relationships. She’d been very naive for her age. This time had given her a chance to grow up, to understand what she really wanted out of life.

Thank you, Josh.

What she wanted from a man.

An image of Josh naked flashed up in her mind, and she pushed it back.

Today is the first day of the rest of my life.

She huffed out a breath and then crawled out of bed and into the shower. She was wearing one of Josh’s T-shirts because she hadn’t been able to find any clean pajamas last night. And who was she kidding?

Loser.

She’d wanted to feel close to him. Now she dragged it over her head and stuffed it in the bottom of the laundry basket so he’d hopefully miss it when he came to pick up his stuff.

Not that he’d made a lot of clutter. He was so tidy. Everything in its place.

How could she fall in love with someone that tidy?

He was an aberration.

No, she was definitely better off without him.

She dressed in jeans, a tank top, and flip flops. She didn’t have to go into the office today, but she did have to confront her grandmother. Just the thought made her tired, but it would be good to not have to worry anymore. She couldn’t wait to get over her broken heart so she could really appreciate her newfound freedom.

But she wasn’t holding her breath.

When she came down the stairs, she passed the open living room door on her way to the kitchen…then backtracked to look again.

That hadn’t been there when she went to bed last night.

She tiptoed to the open door. One of the most beautiful men she had ever seen lay fast asleep on her couch. A complete stranger. He wore gray pants and a white silk shirt, which accentuated his olive skin. His hair was midnight black, perfectly cut, and thick black lashes lay across his cheeks. He had high cheekbones, a straight nose and full lips, and a scar ran from his left eye down over his cheek, giving him an air of mystery and danger. And there was a chicken perched on his chest.

She shook her head, and then a noise from across the room dragged her attention from the Adonis sleeping on her couch. Josh lay on the matching sofa. He didn’t have a chicken, but he did have a cat on his chest and a dog sprawled across his feet. His eyes were open, slightly narrowed, and he was watching her.

He’d come back.

She tiptoed across and perched on the edge of the sofa beside him, stroking the cat’s head—she purred beneath her fingertips—because she needed to do something with her hands. Hands which were itching to reach out and stroke Josh.

“Did you have a good night?”

His eyes narrowed even further but he didn’t speak.

“Is that your friend?” She nodded at the unconscious man opposite her. He was all right, wasn’t he? She stared a bit longer until she caught the slight rise and fall of his chest.

Josh opened his mouth, cleared his throat. “Yeah. That’s Vito.”

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