that?” she asked
in a whisper.
“What?” He wasn’t truly
that clueless, but played so.
She released a heavy
sigh and hiked up the stairs. Inside the bedroom, he was on her heels—right
until the moment she stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door in his
face.
Blake leaned against
the door jamb. “Are you upset?”
“Yes. No. I mean—” She
cursed under her breath.
He couldn’t understand
why she’d gotten so distressed. Okay, maybe he’d gone a little overboard, but…
Eunice continued. “I
don’t know. Did you—”
She yelped once the
door slung open and he was standing there. He flashed one of his award-winning
smiles in hopes of lightening the mood. She pushed him out of the way and moved
toward the bed. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail, and she wore a simple
white nightgown shirt. It was sexy as hell.
“Did you have to take
it that far?” she said.
“We’re supposed to be a
believable couple, right?” She narrowed her eyes at him. Had she been a bull,
he had a feeling this was the moment she would have charged. “I’m sorry. I
didn’t realize my words would affect you so…deeply. They were pretty poetic,
huh?”
Eunice snatched a
pillow from the bed and hurled it at him. What was with him and women with
pillows?
“Enjoy the floor, Mr.
Poetic.”
Blake barked a laugh.
Eunice climbed in bed.
He sobered.
She pulled the covers
to her chin.
Blake pulled his hands
to his waist. “Eunice?” When she didn’t answer, he rested his hand on the back
of his neck. “Come on. You can’t be serious. You’re really making me sleep on
the floor?”
“Goodnight, Prat. Sweet
dreams.”
There was a hint of
laughter in her tone. Frankly, he didn’t find anything funny. “Seriously, that
bed is the size of a small island.”
“In that case, you
should feel privileged. You have the entire ocean to yourself.”
Every damn body is a
comedian in this house. “Okay. I’ll remember this.” This time, humor played in
his tone. “See if you get a Christmas bonus.” He escaped into the bathroom, did
his before bed rituals, then returned and made a pallet on the floor. Using the
remote, he shut off the lights, then attempted to find a comfortable position.
“Blake?”
Ah-ha. I knew she’d
feel sorry for me . “Mmm-hmm,” he hummed.
“Your story… This is
going to sound strange, but it actually happened to me in Central Park. Weird,
huh?”
Not weird at all.
Unlike her story, his had been steeped in truth. All except for the approaching
her part. Unbeknownst to Eunice, he’d seen her in the park doing exactly what
he’d stated. He’d also wanted to ask her out. But before he could, he discovered
she’d recently started working for his company. Imagine his surprise when they’d
bumped into each other at the annual Spring Fling he threw for his staff.
“Huh. Yeah. That is weird.”
***
Blake jolted from his
sleep at the sound of a monstrous clap of thunder. He rotated his head toward
the window, then cussed under his breath at the sharp pain that shot through
his neck. Why in the hell had he allowed Eunice to banish him to the floor? He
searched out the clock on the nightstand.
3:17 .
Collapsing back to the
floor, he draped his forearm across his forehead and groaned. He wouldn’t
survive eight more days of this. By the stiffness in his joints, he wouldn’t
survive eight more hours. To hell with this. What could Eunice possibly do if
he climbed into the bed, throw him out of the room? He had no doubt she would
try.
A vibrant flash
illuminated the room, and he jerked from the silhouette settled inches from
him. What the hell…? It took him a couple of seconds to gather his
thoughts. “Eunice?” With his hand, he searched the darkness for the remote.
Finally locating it, he turned the lights on. A dull glow lit the room.
Eunice sat on the floor
with her back against the footboard and knees hugged to her chest. With her
head tucked, her body
in a whisper.
“What?” He wasn’t truly
that clueless, but played so.
She released a heavy
sigh and hiked up the stairs. Inside the bedroom, he was on her heels—right
until the moment she stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door in his
face.
Blake leaned against
the door jamb. “Are you upset?”
“Yes. No. I mean—” She
cursed under her breath.
He couldn’t understand
why she’d gotten so distressed. Okay, maybe he’d gone a little overboard, but…
Eunice continued. “I
don’t know. Did you—”
She yelped once the
door slung open and he was standing there. He flashed one of his award-winning
smiles in hopes of lightening the mood. She pushed him out of the way and moved
toward the bed. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail, and she wore a simple
white nightgown shirt. It was sexy as hell.
“Did you have to take
it that far?” she said.
“We’re supposed to be a
believable couple, right?” She narrowed her eyes at him. Had she been a bull,
he had a feeling this was the moment she would have charged. “I’m sorry. I
didn’t realize my words would affect you so…deeply. They were pretty poetic,
huh?”
Eunice snatched a
pillow from the bed and hurled it at him. What was with him and women with
pillows?
“Enjoy the floor, Mr.
Poetic.”
Blake barked a laugh.
Eunice climbed in bed.
He sobered.
She pulled the covers
to her chin.
Blake pulled his hands
to his waist. “Eunice?” When she didn’t answer, he rested his hand on the back
of his neck. “Come on. You can’t be serious. You’re really making me sleep on
the floor?”
“Goodnight, Prat. Sweet
dreams.”
There was a hint of
laughter in her tone. Frankly, he didn’t find anything funny. “Seriously, that
bed is the size of a small island.”
“In that case, you
should feel privileged. You have the entire ocean to yourself.”
Every damn body is a
comedian in this house. “Okay. I’ll remember this.” This time, humor played in
his tone. “See if you get a Christmas bonus.” He escaped into the bathroom, did
his before bed rituals, then returned and made a pallet on the floor. Using the
remote, he shut off the lights, then attempted to find a comfortable position.
“Blake?”
Ah-ha. I knew she’d
feel sorry for me . “Mmm-hmm,” he hummed.
“Your story… This is
going to sound strange, but it actually happened to me in Central Park. Weird,
huh?”
Not weird at all.
Unlike her story, his had been steeped in truth. All except for the approaching
her part. Unbeknownst to Eunice, he’d seen her in the park doing exactly what
he’d stated. He’d also wanted to ask her out. But before he could, he discovered
she’d recently started working for his company. Imagine his surprise when they’d
bumped into each other at the annual Spring Fling he threw for his staff.
“Huh. Yeah. That is weird.”
***
Blake jolted from his
sleep at the sound of a monstrous clap of thunder. He rotated his head toward
the window, then cussed under his breath at the sharp pain that shot through
his neck. Why in the hell had he allowed Eunice to banish him to the floor? He
searched out the clock on the nightstand.
3:17 .
Collapsing back to the
floor, he draped his forearm across his forehead and groaned. He wouldn’t
survive eight more days of this. By the stiffness in his joints, he wouldn’t
survive eight more hours. To hell with this. What could Eunice possibly do if
he climbed into the bed, throw him out of the room? He had no doubt she would
try.
A vibrant flash
illuminated the room, and he jerked from the silhouette settled inches from
him. What the hell…? It took him a couple of seconds to gather his
thoughts. “Eunice?” With his hand, he searched the darkness for the remote.
Finally locating it, he turned the lights on. A dull glow lit the room.
Eunice sat on the floor
with her back against the footboard and knees hugged to her chest. With her
head tucked, her body
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