Chapter Eighteen
“Adalia,” Trent whispered into her ear, and a smile lifted the corners of her mouth.
“I love waking up to you,” she murmured, then turned to put her arm across his brawny chest. But it hit linen instead, and she cracked an eyelid. Trent wasn’t in the bed, but stood beside it in a loose white T-shirt and a pair of worn in jeans.
He had one hand behind his back and the other in his pocket, with his hip c****d to the side like a male model.
“What are you doing?” She drew the word out with a groan. “Come back to bed right this minute.”
“Sorry, my love, I can’t do that. You need to get out of bed. We have some serious issues to discuss.” His grin faltered, then straightened, and he took his hand out of his pocket and rubbed his palm down the left side of his leg.
Adalia s
