Forbidden Fate (Crowne Point 3)

I heard the door creak open. I knew he was in the doorway watching me, so I pretended to sleep.

“I know you’re awake, Snitch. You’re a terrible fake sleeper.”

With an exhale, I rolled over, glaring at Grayson. He leaned in my doorway, two bags in his hand.

His eyes wandered my room. “You’re not sleeping in the same room as him.”

“I have a cold,” I lied.

A cocky smile quirked his lips, but it dropped as quickly as it came.

“The fuck are you wearing?” He took in my pajamas, my short cottony pants and loose tank, jaw clenched.

I had hot flashes in the night. Apparently that was a thing that happened during pregnancy.

I folded my arms. “Why are you here?”

“It’s night,” he said simply.

Anyone could walk in.

A servant.

My husband.

Grayson looked around, taking in the guest wing in Crowne Hall.

“Do you keep your windows locked?” He went to the window, testing it. When it opened, he made a noise in his throat and shut it, locking it.

“We’re two stories above ground.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he gritted.

I steeled my voice. “Why are you here?”

“I told you.” His blue eyes found mine, somehow brighter in the dark. “It’s night.”

His eyes throbbed with meaning.

“We don’t do that anymore.” I looked away. “Go back to your wife.”

Instead of listening, he sat on the foot of my bed, placing the bags next to him.

“I brought you peanuts and spaghetti. I wasn’t sure if you were craving anything else.”

“Just looking at that makes me want to throw up now.” It was horrible and true; my favorite foods had turned on me. The smell was invading my nostrils, and I wanted to hurl.

Grayson froze, his hands in the bag, and his face caved. “What can I get you?”

The earnestness, the sincerity in his words, gutted me. How dare he come to my room in the middle of the night and act like this?

“Why aren’t you with your wife?”

“Because you’re—” He broke off on a curse. “I’m trying to be a good man, Story.” He craned his neck so he was looking at me, blue eyes staring and beseeching down the length of the bed.

“So be a good man. Go back to your wife.”

“She’s my wife, but you’re carrying my child.”