“What?” He nuzzled my neck with a lazy chuckle, whispering over my skin. “Ravish you?”
“Exactly.”
I knew, though, that nothing would happen tonight. Taylor Savage was going to pass out the moment his head hit the pillow. I told myself I would just get him inside and make sure he was okay. Ensure he had everything he needed since I was the one who tried to murder him. Then we could go our separate ways.
“Come on, Tink. Are you really so afraid of me?”
“I’m not afraid of you.”
“That’s a lie.”
It might be, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. The truth was, he gave me the flutters. No one had given me the flutters in a long time.
I finally got the door open, which wasn’t as easy as it should have been because I had a big, bulky Scot draped over me who was getting heavier by the minute. Flipping the lights on when I went inside, I smiled at the simple, clean lines of the place. An open floor plan, wall-to-wall windows, and, as promised, a view of the best parts of the city.
“Aren’t you afraid people are gonna look in your windows?”
He chuckled. “They cannae see in. Only I can see out.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Aye, lass, I’m sure. I paid extra.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“I know.”
“Where’s your bedroom?
“Oh, she moves fast. Are you sure you don’t want me to press you up against those windows and—”
“Stop right there. You’re in no shape to do any kind of ravishing. Against the windows. In your bed. On the kitchen counter.”
“Kitchen counter. Now that’s a good suggestion.”
I rolled my eyes. “Taylor, come on.”
I dropped the white pharmacy bag on the coffee table as we passed by. Then I followed his directions down the hall, past two other doors, until reaching his bedroom. I’d expected the same masculine, modern design, but instead I was greeted with a bed that looked soft as a cloud, a thick white rug at the foot, and photos hanging on the walls. A chair in the corner was covered in laundry—but it was folded.
“This is cozy.”
I could hear the smirk. “Makes you want to stay, doesn’t it?”
“No, Taylor, we are not sleeping together tonight.”
“Yes, we are.”
“No, we’re not.”
“Come on. I didn’t say anything about fucking. I don’t want to be alone. I have a headache. And... you did nearly kill me.”
“You are the worst.”
“You like it, though.”
I laid him down on the bed. His eyes closed, lips already back to normal. He rested one palm on his stomach, and the other slid down my arm until he grasped my wrist, his thumb gently running across the underside.
“Just stay with me, lovely. For a while.”