Ella came awake gradually, warm and snug in her bed. For the first time in ages, the ghost hadn’t woken her with loud thumps and rattling pipes or chilly breezes, allowing her a refreshing night of rest. She stretched, stilling when she realized someone shared the bed with her. Her pulse raced a tad faster as she rifled through her mind, trying to recall the how and why. Not a memory surfaced. She came up empty. Not surprising, given she never functioned well on awakening. Her morning required a cup of tea to kick her brain into gear.
Ella fumbled for her bedside lamp, her hand waving at air. Then she remembered. She wasn’t at home. This wasn’t her bed.
So who the devil—?
“Stop fidgeting. It’s still early,” a masculine voice rumbled through the darkness.
“You! Why are you in my bed?” E
