Underneath The Mistletoe Collection. Marguerite Kaye
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Название: Underneath The Mistletoe Collection
Автор: Marguerite Kaye
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Mills & Boon e-Book Collections
isbn: 9781474059046
isbn:
Before she could determine why she found that kiss so lacking, the sound of gentle snoring drew her out of her bewilderment. Perhaps he had spoken the truth—she was in no danger this night of attention she did not want.
However, as much as she longed to find sleep herself, she realised that she now shivered from the cold.
The gown she’d been wearing to bed was on the floor on the other side of the chamber. He would most certainly wake up if she rose from the bed. And the blankets, which had been plentiful the last two nights, were now mostly wrapped around him, leaving her with barely enough to cover her body.
A quick tug on the covers gained her nothing. They were tucked so tightly under his body that she wasn’t going to get them free without rolling him off the bed. And as much as she’d like to do just that, he’d looked and sounded tired.
He probably was good and tired. Not because he’d spent the nights with some whore. She didn’t truly think that was the case. She’d only accused him of doing so to see if it would anger him enough to leave the chamber. Unfortunately for her, it seemed that he found ignoring her barbs far too easy.
If he was anything like her father and brother, he’d likely spent so many long hours going over inventory and inspecting his ships that he hadn’t had any ambition left to come back to the keep. She couldn’t be certain, but felt fairly safe guessing there was a makeshift pallet in one of the warehouses. So, he probably needed a good night’s sleep.
And since that meant she would be able to sleep without trying to keep one eye open, she was more than happy to leave him to his dreams. But she didn’t wish to freeze in the meantime.
Isabella frowned, staring at him in the semi-darkness, and poked his arm, hoping it would irritate him enough that he’d roll over and free some of the covers. She quickly drew her hand back, waiting to see if she’d disturbed his sleep. But he didn’t budge and, once again, the sound of his heavy breathing met her ears.
If he could sleep through the poking, then surely he’d not wake up if she moved closer to share the warmth of the covers. Easing closer, she snuggled against him and pulled the blankets over her shoulder.
Before she could made sense of what was happening, he’d rolled on to his back and she found herself resting halfway across his chest, encircled within his arm. Pushing against his chest gained her nothing except a tighter embrace.
‘Let me go.’
He groaned softly and draped his other arm across his body so his hand rested on her hip. ‘You poked and prodded, tried to jerk the covers from me before seeking warmth. I am tired and obviously you were cold.’ He patted her hip. ‘Now, you aren’t, but I am still tired.’
‘I thought you were asleep.’
‘I was.’
His voice was rough with sleep and his embrace was warm without being threatening. Yet her heart raced as if she’d been running in fear of losing her life. ‘If you were asleep, how do you know what I did?’ She was amazed at the breathlessness of her voice.
‘Hmmm?’
She parted her lips to repeat her question, but closed them before doing so. Why risk waking him up all the way? Right now she was warm and while her body tingled wherever it touched his and hummed with curiosity, and unexpected anticipation, she too could easily fall asleep.
She snuggled closer against him, until his hand tightened on her hip, making breathing harder still. ‘Please, stop.’
It sounded as if he’d spoken through clenched teeth and, unwilling to risk awakening him further, she closed her eyes.
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