Yes, he thought with relief, it appeared his damage control worked.
And, Callum thought, living a life like this with Sonia didn’t yawn before him.
Instead, it might just be sweet.
Chapter Seven
Family
“Um…” Sonia muttered.
“Quiet,” Callum clipped.
Sonia tensed in Callum’s arms.
It appeared her attempted escape had not been such a good idea.
She remained still, cradled in his arms as he marched angrily, no, furiously through the snow heading back toward the cabin.
She had made good her escape plan (kind of, before it was thwarted).
After their first very bad day which ended in a not-so-bad late evening, she decided to spend some time lulling him into a false sense of security before she got the hell out of there. She’d pretended, through his gentle explanations that he was king of a secret sect of society, to understand and acquiesce to his lunacy. And she found pretending wasn’t hard to do because of said gentleness, his talk of her father (insane and maybe even mean, even though what he said about her Papa was nice) and his father (who he obviously missed, or convinced himself he did).
Although it wasn’t hard to pretend during their chat, it was hard when she found out he expected her to sleep with him in the big bed.
Yes.
Sleep.
With.
Him.
She demurred (as anyone would!).
He insisted (but gently).
She demurred again.
He insisted (a bit more firmly).
She gave in.
Fortunately, this was relatively easy considering he was busy with the fires. This tugged at her heartstrings as she remembered her father doing the same thing. He was always at the fires in order to keep his family warm when they were at the cabin. In the bathroom, she had changed into one of her lacy, sexy, silky nightgowns and slid into bed before he’d gotten a glimpse of her.
Unfortunately, after he changed in the bathroom and walked out wearing nothing but a pair of navy flannel pajama bottoms, she got a full on view of his chest. His massive, defined, muscular chest, complete with a furring of hair that was spread in a tempting array across his chest and down his belly. Chest hair that only the hand of God could have created after which, God could only remark, “My work here is done.” Callum’s chest hair was just… that… perfect.
Really, the cosmos had it out for her.
He’d slid into bed beside her and she was certain his big body would take most of the space (it didn’t, she had a nice, comfy section all her own).
He called a soft goodnight to which she’d replied in turn.
Then she held herself tense waiting for him to try something.
He didn’t.
He lay on his back and she listened as his breathing grew steady.