Chapter 20
SamsonI rapped my knuckles on the bathroom door, listening to the gentle rush of water hitting the bathtub’s copper bottom. “Blair,” I said softly.
Behind me, the sheets were rumpled, and morning threatened outside the window. The first rays hadn’t hit our floor yet but Christmas had come, and last night had been f*****g painful. Blair hadn’t come down until after I was half-asleep.
I’d drawn her into my arms and kissed her cheek but she’d been stiff as a board, and I hadn’t pushed it.
“Blair,” I repeated.
The door creaked open and she appeared, wearing her bathrobe, her raven hair falling around her face, mussed by the pillow. At least, her eyes weren’t red-rimmed but she stifled a yawn. Beautiful, even when tired.
Perhaps, that was just to me. Dangerous. This is dangerou
