her admit it.
“A little.” Her voice was barely above a murmur.
“Liar,” he teased. “I can tell you’re about to drift off. Why don’t you get some sleep? I promise to only hold you tonight. Do you trust me?”
At his question she nodded like a sleepy kitten and snuggled deeper into his embrace. Tristan pulled the comforter up around them both and tried not to think about how this woman, so unlike anyone he’d ever met, was worming her way under his skin.
Be careful , a dark little voice warned in his head.
Something about Kat was dangerous. He was feeling things he shouldn’t feel, wanting things that hadn’t ever mattered before tonight.
I should walk away, but I can’t let her go .
* * *
“I need you to come to the address I’m going to text you.” Tristan held his mobile close to his ear as he whispered to Carter.
“Bloody hell, Tristan. You realize it’s six a.m.? Where the hell are you, anyway, and why do I need to come get you? You took the Aston Martin out. Don’t tell me you wrecked it.”
Tristan pressed his forehead to the lavatory door in Kat’s room.
“I’m at someone’s dormitory, but I need trousers. The pair I wore last night met with an accident. Can you get your arse out of bed and meet me here in half an hour?”
Carter’s laugh made Tristan squeeze his eyes shut and clench a fist by his head as he sought to quell his temper and humiliation at the reason his trousers had been soiled.
“I think I’ll come just to have the pleasure of seeing you squirm. Text me the address.” Carter was still laughing as he hung up.
“Bloody bastard,” Tristan muttered as he opened the door and glanced at the bed.
Kat was still asleep, and she looked kissable, fuckable. Perfect in every way a woman could be. The palest of light, more blue than white, filtered through the blinds, stretching across her dormitory windows to illuminate one side of her face and a bare forearm that had slipped free of the covers.
Tristan was captivated by the sight of her. He approached the bed, careful not to wake her. He hadn’t ever stayed with a woman past dawn. He’d always slipped out before now, waiting just long enough for his partner to fall asleep before he made his disappearance. But with Kat, he’d fallen asleep himself, deeply, while holding her. He’d been so relaxed, not even an explosion could’ve woken him. When had sleep ever been that easy? Not in a long while.
Kat shifted, nuzzling her pillow and sighing. The sound sent a blazing path of desire straight to his cock. Tristan forced his eyes away from her and onto his phone, where he texted Kat’s dorm information to Carter.
While he waited for Carter to arrive, he studied her room, the books on her shelf by the door, the small, worn collection of travel guides, each one tabbed and highlighted.
She’d lived quite the nomadic life with her father. What had she said? They’d moved every year or so and she’d never known when they’d move again. Something about that made a tightness grow in his chest.
He couldn’t get what she’d said last night out of his head. Books didn’t leave her, she didn’t have to say good-bye.
Tristan took Dropped from the Clouds from its box and wrapped the ribbon around the book. Then with a grin, he placed it on the pillow next to her. It would be there when she woke up.
She hadn’t had a chance to look at it last night, but she’d have plenty of time to when he was gone. He wouldn’t let her give it back. It was a gift, and if she was going to be spending time with him in bed or out, she’d have to learn to accept the things he bought for her, no matter their price.
The mobile in his hand buzzed with a text from Carter. He was waiting outside.
There was no way he could avoid his friend’s teasing. Not when he was practically naked in the dead of winter. Tristan slipped on his sweater and pants from last night and his socks, and then opened Kat’s door and crept out into the hallway, where he could see Carter waiting outside the glass door.
His friend was dressed in a gray, knee-length coat and jeans, and he was kicking snow about with one booted foot, his hands shoved into his pockets like an errant schoolboy. A pair of trousers was