Three
The sound of running water pulled Charlotte from a deep, dreamless sleep. She stretched and realized immediately she wasn’t in her own bed. These weren’t her bamboo sheets, and she was still fully dressed. Then she remembered being tumbled into Malcolm’s bed.
Definitely not how her prior fantasies of that had played out. Those had involved fewer clothes and a lot more skin.
So much for waking up and sneaking out before morning.
At least she lived right next door. No walk of shame necessary. The likelihood that anyone had seen her come over here last night was low, and the doors to the duplex couldn’t be seen from the manor house.
She’d slept surprisingly well, all snugged up in his bed. It had been a long damned time since she’d shared sleep—or anything else—with anyone, and app
