Chapter ElevenThe knocking began the moment Annabelle and Gavin climbed into bed. In the upstairs apartment above the clinic, the heat of the day tightened down its grip until they could scarcely breathe. The sheets lay bunched at the foot of the bed. Sweat beaded under Gavin's arms and prickled his nose.
Annabelle wiped her forehead. “Was it this stuffy in here last night, and I didn't notice?”
“I don't think so,” Gavin replied, “and it's not this hot outside. There's no reason for it.”
Annabelle flopped onto her back, only to squirm uncomfortably. “My nightgown is too hot,” she complained.
“You could take it off,” Gavin suggested, unable to suppress a lascivious leer.
“I could,” she agreed, and even in the dark he could see the color of her cheeks change as she teased him, “but then
