Confetti Hearts (Confetti Hitched, #1)(59)

“Lachlan, you hussy. They had to have separate beds with a bedside table in between in case the husband was moved to such fits of extreme passion that he thought about shoving the beds together. And when they kissed at least one person had to be sitting up. If you were both lying down, it was obviously a sign that Sodom and Gomorrah had returned. It was all very strict.”

I climb into bed and settle against the soft mattress with a sigh of happiness. “I have to say I’d fit in a forties film today. I’m absolutely knackered.”

It’s the truth. I’ve spent the last few days racing against the clock to get work finished so I could be here. My team had been astonished when I’d backed out of a trip to Dubai, but they’ll have to get used to it. Joe comes first.

He switches off the lamp and the room feels shockingly intimate. The only sound is the crackle of the fire and the soft flutter of snow hitting the windows. Occasionally, light flares as a log shifts in the fireplace, washing his face in a golden glow. My exhaustion disappears as I become aware of how close he is. I can hear his breathing and smell his scent, and my cock is once again hard and aching. I’d tell it to pipe down, but judging from the rigid silence from Joe’s side of the bed, he’s in a similar condition.

We’re not used to abstinence, the two of us. From the first day we met, we’ve shagged and done it very fucking well. I know I could reach for him, and he’d come willingly, but I make myself remember my goal and instead I reach for my phone.

“What are you doing?” he asks sleepily.

“Setting an alarm. I need to wake you up to check you’re okay after that bang on the head.”

“I’m sure there’s no need of that.”

“And I’m equally sure there is.” I look at him over my phone. “I’m not prepared to risk your safety, Joe. It’s non-negotiable.”

He groans. “Okay, then. Do you mind if I go to sleep now?”

“No.” I clear my throat. “Sweet dreams, Joe.”

“You too.”

It takes forever to fall asleep, but when I do, I go deep. My alarm sounds and I wake like I’m rising from the dead. My dreams had been full of sexy images and sounds, and I’m throbbing and rutting against Joe even as I rise to consciousness. I’m wrapped around him, and his little arse is in my lap against my hard cock. Shit. It’s incredibly hard to pull back from him, and I groan silently as I collapse onto my back.

Fuck. I scrub my hands down my face. My cock is throbbing like a toothache, and my boxers are wet with precome.

I count down from thirty, and when I’m calm, I grab his shoulder gently. Against my will my fingers spread, feeling the silky skin. “Joe,” I whisper. “Joe, are you awake?”

“Mfph,” he mutters.

“What’s your name?”

He gives a small chuckle that’s nevertheless full of his usual mischief. “Well, if I didn’t know, the fact that you’ve called me by it twice might have given me a clue.”

I repress a smile. “Name, please.”

“King Charles.”

“Oh, Camilla.”

He chuckles and I pat his shoulder. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” I say, only realising I’ve used the endearment when he stiffens.

“You’ve used that before,” he says.

“Hmm,” I say noncommittally.

“Yes. You never used it before when we were together.”

“That’s because I didn’t know.”

He stiffens. “Know what?”

Because I didn’t know I loved you then. The words are on the tip of my tongue, but my instinct tells me not to push this. He might be tired now, but he’s never been a pushover. That’s a big part of his charm.

“Nothing,” I say smoothly. “Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you in a few hours. Have a better answer next time,” I add sternly.

He chuckles and when silence falls, I think he’s fallen asleep. But then his voice comes soft and small in the darkness.

“I’m sorry.”

“Whatever for?”

“I didn’t speak to you about what I saw in your office. That’s on me. I should have given you the right to explain.”

The words are sweet to me. I know he’s impulsive, but he’s a very thoughtful man. “I don’t blame you,” I whisper. “I blame me. It’s my fault. You tried to get to know me, and I wouldn’t let you. It’s hardly surprising you jumped to that conclusion over what you saw and even less so that you didn’t feel able to talk to me about it.”

He fumbles for my hand and squeezes it. We lie together handfast for a few minutes, and I listen in the quiet still of the night as his breathing deepens. “Night,” he finally mumbles, and silence falls again, but I maintain my hold of his hand even when his grasp goes slack.

The wind howls outside the window, throwing snow at it in wild abandon, but inside we’re warm and snug. In the old days, I could have nestled close and cuddled him, but I didn’t. It’s funny that now I’m happy to lie here just having his hand in mine. It’s a painful pleasure, but it’s one I wouldn’t forgo for the whole world.

I fall asleep to the sound of Joe’s soft snores and with my mind full of plans.