A wicked grin crosses the intruder's face as he slowly approaches the spacious bed with light, careful steps, stealthy, like a thief in the night. I don't seem to notice this. Lucky!
"Lies there like cast," Gaard murmurs to himself. That wicked grin still on his face. A wet rag is hidden behind his back and drops of water from the shower are still glistening on the tips of his dark hair.
"Good morning sleepyhead, ready for the big surprise?" he asks boldly and bends his body menacingly over me.
"Depends which one," I whisper sleepily. What is he up to? I carefully open my eyes, the first rays of sun tickle my nose and my surroundings slowly take on colour. I have never felt the hormones in my body as clearly as this morning and my thoughts revolve around the past night.
A flood of memo
