Panic unfurled inside her.
“I need to use the bathroom.”
“Fine, but come straight back.”
Extracting herself from his grip, she rose from the bed and walked to the bathroom, wondering if he’d take the opportunity to leave once she was no longer in the room.
Churned up and confused, she took her time in the bathroom.
Ten minutes later she opened the door.
And saw Sean asleep on the bed.
He lay sprawled, long strong limbs stretched out, his left arm flung above his head. Those thick dark lashes that normally took second place to those blue eyes fanned bronzed skin and a strong bone structure.
Élise stood for a moment, locked in indecision. She could join him, but that would mean waking together and that would put their relationship on a whole other level and she didn’t want that.
She could wake him now and ask him to go and sleep at Jackson’s but he already slept the deep sleep of exhaustion. She knew his work was punishing and the events of the past few weeks had placed extra demands on his stamina. He showed nothing, absorbed stress and pressure like blotting paper, but still the effects were there.
There was no way she could wake him. She wasn’t that selfish.
With a sigh, she accepted that she wasn’t going to move him, which gave her two choices.
This time, she allowed her brain to make the choice, easing the covers over him so he didn’t get cold in the night.
Then she picked up a couple of pillows, pulled out a blanket from the white wicker basket at the bottom of her bed and resigned herself to a night on the couch.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
SEAN WOKE TO the call of birds and the sounds of the lake and lay for a minute, his brain still shrouded in sleep, his limbs heavy. It took him a moment to ease into the day and remember where he was.
Heron Lodge.
In Élise’s bed.
But there was no sign of Élise. A single glance told him she hadn’t spent any part of the night in her own bed.
He’d crashed out and she’d slept—where?
“Shit.” He groped for his watch, saw that it was past eight o’clock and knew it was already too late to avoid awkward questions from his twin brother. Unable to remember the last time he’d slept this late, he rose and went in search of Élise but Heron Lodge was empty. Fresh coffee sat on the counter, cold, evidence that she’d left a while ago.
She hadn’t hung around for slow morning sex, or even morning-after conversation.
He probably should have been relieved. It surprised him to discover that he wasn’t.
He bit into one of the pastries she’d left on the plate, took a moment to admire her skill as a chef and then heated the coffee. It was only when he lifted the mug to his lips that he noticed the blanket folded neatly on the couch.
He lowered the coffee.
She’d slept on the couch?
Guilt, sharp and unfamiliar, stabbed him along with other emotions that were unfamiliar and unrecognizable.
Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned to find her standing in the doorway wearing the shortest pair of running shorts he’d seen. Her dark hair was held back from her face by a band and her cheeks were pink.
Lust punched right through his body. It didn’t matter what she was wearing, he wanted her.
“Why did you sleep on the couch?”