Know Your Heart: A New Zealand Enemies to Lovers Romance (Far North Series Book 2) (14 page)

Flames flickered low in the fireplace, the bed of embers the only other light in the room aside from an end table lamp.

Glen cast her a sleepy stare. “Better?”

“Much better. Now I can talk without my molars clacking.”

“Good to hear.” He stretched his arms over his head, muscles playing beneath his tanned biceps, bulging into two smooth mounds as he laced his fingers behind his neck. “I’ve changed the linen in the bedroom. I’ll crash here for the night.”

On a couch that couldn’t contain six-feet-plus of male without his feet propped up on the arm? The couch folded out into a bed, but not a comfortable one for a guy as big as Glen.

“That’s very sweet of you, but I’m a much better fit. You look hideously uncomfortable.”

He crossed his ankles, nearly taking out the end lamp. “I’ve slept on worse than this.”

“Not since uni days, I’ll bet.”

The grin he sent her caused her blood to flow like a tide to the moon’s beckoning. A lethal current that dragged her under with a sudden weariness. Kind Glen, thoughtful Glen, was a lot harder to resist than abrasive, pain-in-the-butt Glen.

“Please don’t argue,” she said softly. “It’s late, and I’ve caused enough drama. I just want to go to sleep, and the couch looks perfect. I don’t even need to fold it out.”

He watched her for a beat or two, while the wind whistled and howled, lashing the house.

“All right.” Glen uncoiled to stand in one smooth movement. “You know where I am if you need anything else.”

She offered up a smile she hoped appeared grateful, and with a nod, he left.

Sav switched off the lamp and lay down, the seat cushions still deliciously warm from Glen’s body heat. Adjusting a fuzzy mohair rug over her legs, she turned her face toward the fire, forcing her churning thoughts to focus on the flames. The house creaked and yawned as it settled for the night, and her eyelids drooped.

Ghosts of dreams, of crashing trees and howling wind, hauled her out of a light doze and sent her heart racing. She cracked open an eye in the pitch-black room. The last of the embers had died. Wriggling onto her back, she sighed. The cushions beneath her now felt as if they’d been constructed with hay-stuffed sacking. She tugged the rug higher over her shoulders, needing to recreate the warmth and comfort of Glen’s arms as he carried her into the house. Her nose crinkled, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Yeah, right—warmth and comfort…shivering, soaked, and dressed like the damn Easter Bunny.

Yet her body still insisted she’d been warmed and comforted by his presence, and it nagged that it’d like to be again.

Tonight.

Savannah dumped the throw rug to the side and stood. Then sat.

What am I, crazy?

Then stood.

Yup. A card-carrying crazy woman with a middle-of-the-night craving for the man sleeping in her room.

She sat.
Really
?

She would sneak into Glen’s bed…and what? She stood.

And…snuggle on her pillow-top, king-size mattress with its four-hundred thread count sheets and a pure New Zealand wool duvet inner…
and go to sleep
.

That was all the snuggling she’d do.

Savannah edged out of the family room, trailing her fingers over the shadowy lumps of furniture. Down the hallway, socks whispering on the wood floor, she paused outside the master bedroom. The door was ajar, and with a cocked head, she identified the soft, whuffly breathing of a man deeply asleep.

She slipped into the room and closed the door. Rhythmic breathing continued as she tip-toed across the room, keeping her hand extended to locate the foot of the bed. Her fingers connected with the cover, and she lightly ran her nails over the smooth fabric until she encountered the bump of a foot—then farther until she found the second foot.

She bit back a groan. Dammit. Glen was spread eagle in the middle. Typical. Almost the biggest bed on the market, and a guy would still choose to sleep dead center.

She followed the bed to the corner and up to the nightstand. There was enough room for her on the edge, and thanks to the extra dollars spent on an anti-roll mattress, she wouldn’t even wake him crawling under the covers.

Sav stripped off the socks and track-pants and piled them within easy reach on the floor. When her internal alarm went off at 6:00 a.m., they’d be in reach for a quick getaway. She slipped under the duvet, curling onto her side. Nearly two weeks on Daisy’s off-the-shelf mattress made her pillow-top feel as if it were filled with cloud fluff.

Sav melted bonelessly onto the smooth sheets and closed her eyes.

A palm dropped onto her waist and squeezed gently. “Busted twice in a day? That’s got to be some kind of record.”

Her eyes popped open at Glen’s sleep-scratchy voice, but she didn’t flinch. Turned out he was a lighter sleeper than she’d anticipated.

Oops.

Her lips curved on the pillow. Yeah, she’d wanted to get caught after all.

Sheets rustled, and thanks to the anti-roll mattress, she couldn’t feel him inching toward her, but the tiny hairs on her spine did and rose with anticipation.

“Are you cold?” The weight on her waist lightened as he lifted his hand and ran his fingertips up her bare arm to the tee shirt sleeve.

“No.”

Oooh, no. Not cold at all. Currently experiencing a hot flash. Especially in one part of her anatomy.

“Was the couch uncomfortable?”

His voice was closer this time, and he didn’t sound sleepy at all.

“A little.”

“Or did you need something?”

He chuckled, a low rumble that flicked her burners from low to high. If sexiness was based purely on voice alone, that last sentence would’ve shot off the graph.

Yes, she could admit it now. She’d needed something. Or someone. Him, specifically. Could she trust Glen enough to admit it out loud? To ask for what she needed?

Men like to pursue
, her mother’s voice whispered in her inner ear.
Clever girls let men chase them. So play a little hard to get, be a little mysterious, keep them guessing as to what you want so they’ll try to please you. Love is a game, darling.

A game that hadn’t worked out well for her mum. Monique had stayed at home, immaculately groomed in stylish clothes, waiting for Savannah’s father to walk in the door after piloting one of his international flights. She was a 1950s parody of a wife, charming, beautiful, and a little aloof. But she’d lost the game when her husband fell in love with his good-natured, pretty flight attendant. Her parents separated when Sav was fourteen, her father and his pregnant girlfriend, Rachel, moving across the world to settle in London.

Savannah had never been a game player, and if she’d had better advice on relationships, maybe she wouldn’t have ended up marrying her first and only boyfriend.

“Sav?”

His hand dropped away from her arm, probably because she’d been silent and tense for the last ten seconds, as if the tendons stretched under her skin had transformed to steel cables.

“I was just teasing. Go to sleep; you must be exhausted.”

She rolled over to face him. At least she thought she was facing him—in the darkened room, it was hard to tell—then her hand connected with hot, smooth skin. Her fingertips skimmed over a flat nipple and he inhaled on a hiss.

“I’m not exhausted, and I can’t sleep.”

She wriggled closer, and her bare knee brushed another sleep-warm part of his body. Judging by the hair prickling her kneecap, she guessed his leg.

“I need…” Her hand slid over the wall of his chest to his shoulders, reveling in the muscles bunching there.

From his shoulders, continuing upward, her fingers traversed silky skin until they encountered heavy stubble, then inward, tracing her index finger along his bottom lip.

“This…” Sav arched up, the scruff on his jaw bristling against her lips. She darted light kisses along his lower lip, scenting his skin, teasing herself more than him. “This is what I need.”

Even over the storm raging outside, Glen’s deep-throated hum of approval was loud enough to hear. The hum saying,
help yourself, then
.

An offer she couldn’t refuse.

Sav touched her mouth to his. Warm lips under hers, the softest stirring of his breath, rapid enough to give her a tiny thrill knowing she wasn’t the only one affected. Tentative for the first few moments, part of her braced for him to switch gears and take charge. But he didn’t. Glen remained still, allowing her to explore his contours, parting his lips to fit hers only when she flicked the tip of her tongue against his.

A ragged groan as their tongues collided, and she lost herself in the sensation of wet heat. The lazy dance of his mouth moving on hers, the slide of his tongue, testing and teasing her control, she kissed him until she’d have to think really hard to know her own name. She hadn’t been lost in a man’s kiss in a long time. The act of losing yourself required a level of trust she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Threading her fingers into Glen’s hair, Savannah melted onto his chest and his hand settled on her hip, bunching the shirt up to her waist. Long fingers stroked the bare skin above her panties, moving slowly upward until his thumb brushed the underside of her breast. Sav instinctively pulled her breasts away to give him access to her nipples—two puckered nubs begging for his touch. But dammit, his hand didn’t move higher; he just deepened the kiss until the room spun like she’d drunk champagne at bedtime. She tangled her legs with his, bringing her lower body into contact with cotton boxers containing a delicious hardness.

Oh yeah, he was good, too damn good—nothing at all awkward about the man’s game. He’d given her control, put the decision of how much she wanted in her hands.

And now she wanted so much her body quaked with it.

Oh, God, her nipples weren’t the only thing begging to be touched.

He felt amazing, hard enough and hot enough to burn off her panties with one downward shift of his hips into the juncture of her thighs. The feel of his erection wedged intimately into her stomach stole what remained of her breath but a sliver of sanity returned. A buzz-kill of sanity. She was in bed with a man she’d known less than two weeks, rubbing up to him like a stripper on a pole.

But before she could break the kiss and retreat, Glen pulled back with a grumbly sound deep in his throat.

“Hey.” His ragged breath blew a strand of hair off her flushed cheek. “Are you sure about this getting so serious so fast?”

The erection wedged against her announced he wouldn’t mind getting even more serious in the next few minutes.

She put a little distance between them, squirming her hips backward. His hand dropped away from under her shirt. No body parts touching was the only chance she had of rational thought returning.

“Not as sure as I was a few moments ago.” She wished she could see his expression in the darkness. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to be a cock-tease.”

He made a startled choking sound. “Jesus, Sav.”

Now would be a great time for another tree to come down. Preferably one that’d crash through the bedroom window and put her out of her misery.

“You’re not a cock-tease—although, hell, ignore anything dumb I say for the next minute as all the blood’s drained from my head.”

“You did tell me to climb into your bed the next time I snuck into your house.” She couldn’t prevent a note of defensiveness from sharpening her voice. That the smallest perceived rejection from him could sting was not a good sign.

“I did,” he agreed.

“I called your bluff too soon.”

“There’s no bluff, Sav. I want you in my bed. That’s kind of obvious, considering.”

A smile warmed his tone and gentle fingers brushed another strand of hair off her forehead. “But I hadn’t imagined this would be the circumstance.”

With her being a homeless, uninvited houseguest. She stiffened as the bedroom wall gave another shudder. She wasn’t the only houseguest—“With Tom sleeping next door?”

“No, with you still rattled from earlier events.”

“I’m fine.” But her belly performed a series of shaky somersaults at the memory of the storm and the tree crushing her caravan.

“Uh-huh. Okay, Ms.
I’m fine
, roll over.”

“Um…
what
?”

Visions of his naked body pressed up against her from behind rolled across her mind in a hot wave. She licked dry lips as the belly somersaults turned into triple twists. Ohhh-kay. Guess she really wasn’t ready for things to get that out of hand.

“I’m not normally a cuddler, but I’ll make an exception. Roll over.”

“You want to
cuddle
?”

He sighed. “We just had our tongues in each other’s mouths, and you find the idea of cuddling distasteful?”

Actually, the idea of spooning with Glen filled her with a pretty even mix of warm glow and fiery heat. Nothing about being up close and personal with the man was in the realms of distasteful.

“Not distasteful, just unexpected when we’ve, ah, got each other all worked up.”