Page 43 of Guarded Secrets
The bruising around the bandage on her forehead had turned an ugly purple. She brushed her teeth thinking she needed to find blankets for Owen to use on the couch.
Rinsing her mouth, she exited the bathroom. Not seeing him, she went to her bedroom. And came to a screeching stop in the doorway.
He’d taken off his shoes and pulled back the bedding and now that long body was stretched out on one side of the bed, hands behind his head as he rested against a pillow. He still wore his jeans, but with his arms stretched up a thin strip of muscled abs was revealed.
His eyes were closed, but they popped open when she threw a pillow squarely at his chest, one of the small decorative pillows he’d shoved onto the floor. “What the hell are you doing?” he grumbled.
“What the hell am I doing? What the hell areyoudoing in my bed?”
“I told you I was staying.”
“Yeah, on the couch.”
“Your couch is a loveseat and at least three feet too short for me. No thanks. Your bed’s a full size. Barely adequate, but it’s miles better than the couch.”
She closed her eyes against the headache the Tylenol had yet to reach. Opening them tiredly, she said, “Look, I know Mom asked you to look after me and I appreciate you taking that to heart and making me go to the clinic even when I didn’t want to. Truly I do. But, Owen, you looking after me doesn’t extend to sleeping in my bed.Ineed to sleep in my bed.”
“There’s room for both of us.” He sat up, swinging his feet to the floor. “Look, princess, until I can get a security system installed, I’m sticking close. Right now, that means you and I are sharing this bed.”
She opened her mouth to object, but he held up a finger. “We’re both exhausted. I promise I can keep my hands to myself. You’re safe from being attacked in your sleep.”
“Don’t make fun of me.”
“How is that making fun of you?” Exasperation edged his tone.
“If you don’t know, I’m not explaining it to you.” She hated resorting to such a juvenile response, but she was too tired to find the words to explain.
“For fuck’s sake. You got an extra toothbrush?”
She nodded. “I left one out on the bathroom counter.”
He disappeared, and she considered her options. She was tired, they both were, and Owen made her feel safe. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, the attack had rattled her and she didn’t want to be alone. As he’d told her before, she needed to deal.
Owen returned. He turned his back and undid his belt, dropping his jeans to the floor. He slid between the sheets, jammed a pillow under his head and lay on his side facing the wall. He pulled up the covers and she was surprised he didn’t start snoring immediately.
Whatever.
Retrieving her pajamas from under her pillow, she retreated to the bathroom to change. With flannel pants and a long-sleeved t-shirtdecorated on the front with a sleepy sloth hanging from a tree and the words “Slow Moving in the Morning,” she looked more like a survivor of the zombie apocalypse than anything remotely sexy.
She didn’t have the energy reserves to argue any further about the sleeping arrangements. They’d sleep side by side and she probably wouldn’t even notice that he was there.
Of course she noticed he was there. A half hour later she flipped onto her back for probably the hundredth time and let out a heavy sigh. Apparently, exhaustion didn’t guarantee sleep.
She was too aware of the man lying next to her to relax. He smelled good. His deep, even breaths were mesmerizing, and he threw off heat like one of those radiant heaters for patio dining.
After she flipped her pillow one more time, Owen turned to his back with an arm stretched over his head. In the faint glow from a nightlight, she saw the shadow of his arm as he brought up his hand to jam his fingers through his hair.
“I’m sorry I’m keeping you awake,” she whispered.
He sighed, then turned so he was facing her. “Come here.” He wrapped his hand around her waist to tug her snugly into the curve of his body, his arms going around her. He whispered in her ear, “Now relax, darlin’, and go to sleep.”
With the feeling that life couldn’t get much better, surprisingly, she did just that.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Owen woke with daylight streaming through a window, the woman of his dreams in his arms, and an erection that threatened to get him in a shitload of trouble nestled against her ass. He disengaged and rolled out of bed, adjusting himself with his back to her. He pulled on his jeans and when he felt in control enough to face her, he found he needn’t have worried because she was still out cold.
He stared at her, for once looking his fill. Wavy brown hair that he knew in the summer would streak to a honey blonde. Faint freckles across the bridge of her nose, and lips he wanted to kiss,reallykiss, and not like the stupid peck he’d given her the night before.
