But the Pol I knew had no problems showing it. It was me who had a problem with the way he showed it.
This was a lot to take in but I was beginning to find it hard to concentrate. Either due to the blow to the face or my adrenaline crashing, suddenly I was fading.
Valentine saw it and I felt the wineglass sliding out of my hand.
I blinked up at her, drowsiness coming on so quickly it wasn’t right and I knew it was no adrenaline crash.
My eyes dropped to the wineglass.
“Settle, ma chérie,” she murmured, pressing on my shoulder so I had no choice but to slide back down the bed.
“You drugged me,” I accused.
She didn’t deny it.
Instead, she said, “Sleep is good. Tomorrow, you’ll be rested and you can better understand all that’s happening and acclimatize to your surroundings.”
“You drugged me,” I repeated, my words now slightly slurred, whatever she gave me working fast.
“It’s for the best.”
Someone drugging you without your knowledge was not for the best. Maybe their best, but not yours.
“You—”
“Sleep,” she whispered.
“But…”
I heard her sigh but I said no more because, against my will, I did as I was told and slept.
* * * * *
I regained consciousness in a sluggish way when my body was moved.
I was still mostly out of it but I could tell the person in bed with me wasn’t just joining me there. He was changing positions and taking me with him.
I didn’t know how we were before, but when he settled I was tucked close to his side, my cheek on his shoulder. As I struggled with consciousness, his fingers wrapped around my wrist and tugged my arm across his flat stomach.
I felt warm, soft skin over firm muscle pretty much everywhere.
Crap.
It was too bad I didn’t have it in me to protest. But I was so lethargic, I couldn’t move.
But I could speak.
“Pol?” I murmured and his arm holding me to him tightened as his hand at my wrist slid up my arm to curve around me.
“No,” he grunted forcefully.
“Apollo,” I whispered.
That got me a double arm squeeze.
“Yes,” he replied, gently this time. “Sleep, my dove.”
Oh boy.