“But –”
His mouth touched mine but he didn’t kiss me and he kept his eyes open, boring into mine.
I quieted.
“I took too much from you last night,” he murmured against my lips. “You need to rest.”
My mouth opened under his and I began to speak, “I –”
I stopped speaking when his tongue darted in and touched mine, startling me. It was a fleeting touch but even so, his open eyes kept mine captive and I registered a distinct, excited flurry in the region of my belly.
Now.
Exactly.
What was that?
A flurry? Caused by a kiss from my near-murderer?
That proved it. I was deranged.
“Rest,” he whispered against my mouth.
Before I knew it, he was gone.
* * * * *
I opened my eyes again when I sensed movement in the room.
It was light, I could still see the sun shining around the curtains so it was not yet “tonight” which meant, I hoped, the movement wasn’t Lucien.
It wasn’t. It was Edwina tiptoeing around the bed.
“I’m awake,” I announced, cautiously getting up on an elbow.
She jumped at the sound of my voice and whirled to face me.
“You’re awake,” she repeated.
I nodded, focusing on her. She was a beautiful, older woman, older than my mother. How I knew this I didn’t know because her face was nearly unlined but I guessed it to be true. Her hair was thick, long and white and it looked soft. It was pulled back in a ponytail at her nape. Like yesterday, she was wearing a gauzy outfit, a swirly, peachy-pink skirt and beige-pink flowy blouse cinched with an equally flowy scarf belt low on her waist.
She looked like a stylish hippie. Strange but true.
“Lucien spent the night,” she declared on a strangled whisper.
I kept staring at her.
Then I asked, “What?”
“Lucien,” she said then spoke no more.
“Yes, Lucien –” I prompted.
“Spent the night,” she breathed in what sounded like deep surprise.
God, she was weird.
“Yes, he did,” I replied slowly.