In Too Deep

She sat close to him on the bed, apparently oblivious to the danger, and brushed his hair away from his forehead. “Are you doing okay?”

“Lie down with me,” he whispered, wondering where the hell those words had come from the instant he said them. Sure, he’d been thinking about it, but that was no excuse.

Her breath caught, and he wished for more light than came from the hallway so he could see her expression. She looked away from him, then stood.

Ah, damn. The apology he owed her remained stuck in his throat. She’d been nothing but kind, and she was bound to take his invitation as an insult rather than… Than what? he wondered.

He closed his eyes and a second later heard the click of the door. He looked over at it and, to his astonishment, saw that she was moving toward him as if in a shadowy dream. He heard the soft swish of her robe, then sensed more than he saw as she let it drop from her shoulders to the floor. She pulled back the covers and slipped in beneath them.

She scooted closer as he shifted onto his side, then she was in his arms, pressed against him full body to body. Hardly daring to breathe, he wrapped his arms around her. He had to be dreaming.

No way had she just climbed into bed with him.

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