‘I’m fine.’ His voice was in his gruff bear mode. ‘Go back to bed.’
‘You are so not fine,’ Abby said, seeing the spasm of pain in his gaze. ‘You look terrible.’ How had she thought he was drunk six months ago? It was obvious he was unwell both then and now. She felt thoroughly ashamed. She had jumped to conclusions and misjudged him.
He leaned his forehead on the edge of the door as if he didn’t have the strength to keep it upright on his neck. ‘It’s just a headache. It’ll pass once the medication kicks in.’
Abby wasn’t a sufferer of migraines but she’d read enough about them to know they could be crippling. Sufferers couldn’t bear light or the slightest sound, and finding a quiet dark place until the migraine passed was usually the best solution. She took Luke’s hand and ignoring his weak protest, led him back to the bed. ‘Lie down,’ she said in a soft voice. ‘I’ll get you a damp face cloth.’
Surprisingly, he did as she said and lay on his back on the bed, his long legs stretched out, his feet splayed outwards. Abby left him lying there while she went to his en suite bathroom and rinsed a facecloth under the cold water tap. She squeezed it out and came back to him and, perching on the edge of the bed, laid the cool cloth gently across his clammy forehead. He made a low sound of appreciation but his eyes stayed closed.
After a while, Abby realised he was drifting in and out of sleep, his body twitching and his closed eyelids flickering as if trying to combat pulses of searing pain. She stayed beside him, reluctant to leave him until she was sure he was resting peacefully.
Her eyes started to flicker, not from pain but tiredness. She was still dressed in nothing but a bath sheet and, while it covered her adequately, she longed to slip between the sheets and close her heavy-as-dumbbells eyelids.
Just for a few minutes.
Once the thought was inside her head it was impossible to resist the lure of the comfortable bed. It was a king-sized one, surely big enough for him not to even notice her there. Or maybe it was an emperor-sized one. Did such a thing exist? It was certainly big enough for a football team, plus some spectators.
He wouldn’t even know she had been here.
She carefully peeled back the covers and slipped in, well away from Luke’s sleeping form. Her head went down on the feather pillow and everything that was tense and tired inside her body began to slowly relax, as if she was a tightly wound ball of wool and someone was starting to unravel her.
Luke made a soft noise and rolled over to his side, facing away from her. Abby held her breath, her heart hammering until she was certain he was soundly asleep, and then she finally closed her eyes and the ball of wool in her tense muscles slowly and blissfully unwound the rest of the way…
* * *
Abby woke to find one of Luke’s strong arms across her body and his legs brushing up against hers from behind. Slats of bright sunshine stole through the gap in the curtains, indicating it was well past dawn. What time was it? How long had she been sleeping?
Eek! She was sleeping in Luke’s bed!
She suddenly realised she was naked and, even though she moved a foot experimentally to search for it, there was no sign of the bath sheet she had wrapped around herself the night before.
How had she ended up naked in his bed with her limbs tangled with his?
Had they fooled around? Had she made a sleepy pass at him? Surely if they had made love she would remember it? She would most definitely remember it. She might occasionally forget to buy milk or bread or to pay the minimum payment on her credit card but she would never forget making love with Luke.
Abby closed her eyes again and tried to recall anything from the time after she’d slipped in beside him. Nope. Nothing but a blank…although there was that delicious little dream where someone had kissed the back of her shoulder. A prickly, stubbly sort of kiss followed by a lazy lion-like lick of the tongue that had sent a shiver over her skin.
Right now the back of her neck was being tickled by Luke’s rhythmic breathing, and she could feel the rise and fall of his chest between her shoulder blades. She stayed perfectly still, not wanting to disturb him, mainly because she was sure he would spring away if he knew what he was doing.
How nice was this? How cosy and sexy and slightly wicked. She liked the feeling of being held, of being spooned as if she was treasured, special. She lay there quietly registering all the sensory hot spots on her body where it was touching his. The differences between their bodies, his hard-muscled frame and her softer one, made her feel womanly and feminine in a way she never had felt before. Even the scent of their bodies was different, but the thought of those intimate smells mingling with each other was strangely, excitingly arousing.