Page 9 of Curvy Cabin Fever
She hesitates, her fingers curling around the edges of her coat.
And I feel it. Again.
That maddening,unwelcome,attraction.
I should ignore it, let Rhett sort this out and let Morgan pacify her.
Instead—
“You could sleep in my room, with me,” I remark casually, watching as she turns to me, her lips parted.
She’s stunned.
Of course, she is—a strange man just offered her his bed,with him still in it.
“Damien.” Rhett stares at the ceiling, like he’s summoning patience from above. His shoulders slump, exhausted. “That’s not happening.”
But I’m not looking at Rhett.
I’m looking ather.
And I see it, the excitement and fear in her eyes, and I cannot resist.
“Good job it’s not your decision to make then, Rhett.” I tilt my head, my gaze never leaving hers. “It’s hers.”
A gasp leaves her lips, and I want to cross the room and swallow it.
I keep her in my sights, and it’s like time stops when our eyes lock.
“What’s your name?” The words slip from my mouth too easily, but I can’t take them back. I’m talking too much, but I can’t fucking help it.
A pause.
An inhale.
Then—
“Aria.”
Well,fuck. She could’ve been called anything, but Aria? It’s the name of a goddess and so fucking suited to her.
My lips twitch.
Pretty.
“Aria,” I repeat, letting the name roll from my tongue and into the air between us.“I like it.”
I see the way her breath catches, her tongue sweeping across those plump fucking lips. She plays with the edges of her coat again, like she’s wondering whether to stay or run.
Stay.
“For fuck’s sake,” Rhett mutters, rubbing a hand down his face.
Morgan clears his throat and beckons Aria over to the kitchen counter where he’s making tea.
“Let’s get warm and talk about this properly.”
Properly?
