CHAPTER 37
Lincoln could not go to sleep. He was overheated, uncomfortable, and preoccupied. The stars blinking above him could not soothe his mind and the cool night breeze did nothing to bring his temperature down. This was an internal thing.
It was late–nearly two in the morning–and Grace had just gone to bed–in his bed.
Being a gentleman, he hadn’t even tried to press anything more and had opted to camp out on the hammock again, thinking that if he put as much distance between them as possible he would be able to get some sleep.
He had thought wrong.
He cursed as he flipped over one more time in the hammock and almost spilled out onto the deck. Growling in frustration, he pressed the base of his palms against his forehead.
The woman would not get out of his head. The way she talk
