Back In The Bedroom (The Wrong Bed #29)(4)

She could only stare at him. She’d imagined him dangerous. Edgy. But…armed? “Wow.”

He ground his teeth but didn’t say anything else.

“Four,” she repeated softly.

“And now two of them are armed,” he said. “Courtesy of moi. So even if we could distract them and bring them back this way, it’s not the wisest move. Unless you’re wearing a bulletproof vest…? No?” he asked when she shook her head. “See, bad move.” Gingerly, as if he had a headache, which he no doubt did, he sank back to the cot.

“Who would do this?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Your guess is as good as mine. Eddie certainly has plenty of enemies.”

How was that possible? The Eddie she knew wouldn’t harm a fly. “So we’re just going to stand here and wait for them to decide we’re not exactly an asset?”

“I’m not going to stand.” He lay back, put his feet up, and closed his eyes.

She stared at him. “You’re not serious.”

He drew in a deep breath, and, as if they were attached to his body by strings, her eyes followed the motion of his broad chest rising and falling, followed the way his six-pack belly caved in, and how his knit boxers lovingly cupped his…package.

And, oh my, what a package.

A little shocked at herself, she turned her back on him. “I can’t believe this.” She took a good look around the small, spartan room. There was nothing in it but the cot, and yet the rest of the house was so absolutely beautifully done. It was strange. “Where are we anyway?”

“The servants’ quarters.”

She turned around to look at him, but he hadn’t budged nor opened his eyes. “Did you grow up here?”

“No.”

“Did you—”

“How many more questions do you figure you have, because I’d like to sleep off this headache.”

She’d been manhandled, terrified and trapped, and she could deal with that. But it would have been nice if it’d happened with a warmer, more compassionate man, a man who put others’ needs and fears ahead of his own need for a nap.

Certainly someone more in touch with his own emotions.

In other words, this man’s polar opposite. “You shouldn’t go to sleep,” she said, unable to just ignore him. She had a feeling he could be fully dressed and she still wouldn’t be able to ignore him. “You could be concussed.”

He didn’t answer. His body took up the entire cot and more, a good portion of his long legs were hanging off the cot. His wide shoulders barely fit onto the thin mattress.

But what if she’d wanted to lie down? What then? She’d have to be snuggled right up against all that bare sinewy flesh.

Not that he’d even care, as he appeared to not have given her a second thought. Wasn’t that ever so flattering? “Are you really going to sleep?”

“Shhh.”

Unbelievable. She watched him breathe slowly and evenly for another moment before letting out a frustrated sigh. “Fine. Sleep.” Without a care to her own possible fears and pain. Wasn’t that just like an alpha?

She eyed the room again. The window was still too small, with no fire escape or way to climb down. Interestingly enough though, there appeared to be an attic access in the ceiling, a decent-sized one, too. Not that she could reach it alone, but they had to get out. Maybe if he helped— “Reilly?”

He let out a long-suffering sigh. “What?”

“I have another option than sleep.”

He opened his eyes, the look in them blatantly sexual. “Oh, yeah?”

Oh boy, definitely alpha. Extremely alpha. So why his low, husky tone and those suggestive words made her body tingle, she hadn’t a clue.

“What did you have in mind?” His voice dripped an earthy sensuality.

“Uh…” Oddly enough, the only thing she had in mind right now was X-rated. “I forgot.”

His gaze ran over her from head to toe, flared with heat, shocking her, before he closed his eyes. “Okay, then.”

Okay, then.





2




REILLY DRIFTED off pleasantly, to a place where his head didn’t hurt and he was wearing clothes—

“Reilly.” This extremely loud whisper was accompanied by a shove at his shoulder.

She was ba-a-ack. His father’s latest fling, the petite pixie with the shoulder-length brown hair and mossy-green eyes that flashed her every thought for the world to see.

Was she even of legal age?

“Reilly?”

He had no idea why she bothered to whisper, when she was doing it so loudly she could have woken the dead.

“I think you should wake up now,” she said, and added another teeth-rattling shake. “Come on. Get up and count to ten or something.”

Honest to God, the woman talked more than any woman he’d ever met.

“Just to make sure you don’t go into a coma.” Another shake. “It’s only been five minutes but I can’t remember how long you’re supposed to let someone with a bleeding head injury sleep.”

“I’m not in a coma,” he said with his eyes still closed. It wasn’t really sleep he was interested in, but a way to pass the time other than looking at the oddly sweet and sexy Tessa. “And my head is no longer bleeding.”