Read Hooked #3 (The Hooked Romance Series - Book 3) for Free Online Page B

shaking my head. I felt my eyelids begin to close
after the long drive, the long week of work. I couldn’t sleep next to Drew. I
wouldn’t be able to keep myself off him. If he leaned toward me; if he kissed
me, I would simply dive into his arms and never get out. As a result, I was
certain he would hurt me. I knew I would hate myself. It couldn’t happen.
    I turned back toward him, noting that his eyes were
on me. “Only one bed?” I asked him.
    He shrugged his shoulders, looking at me stoically.
“We’ve slept next to each other before.”
    “Sure. But we were always naked.”
    “I like sleeping naked. It’s good for the skin,” he
answered cheekily, allowing his dimples to show.
    I hummed, unsure of what to do. “Are you—are you
tired?”
    “I was thinking we wouldn’t go out tonight, if
that’s what you mean,” Drew began. “I want to go out tomorrow night. To this most remarkable place. You’ll love it.” He grinned
at me once more. He couldn’t keep his dark pupils off me. He looked toward the
bed once more. “Do you mind if I sit on the bed for a moment and take off my
shoes?”
    Suddenly flustered, I gestured toward the bed,
unsure of what to do. “Of course. Of
course. Take off your shoes.”
    He sat silently, gazing up at me. I thought about
placing my body over his, kissing his lips. I backed away toward the champagne,
and poured us two more glasses. I would fall asleep soon if I kept drinking, I
knew. I nearly choked on the bubbles this time as I drank.
    “You know. You’re still the most beautiful woman I
think I’ve ever seen,” Drew whispered, his toes now wiggling softly on the
ground. He paused, considering. “You can get comfortable. I’ll sleep wherever
you want me to sleep tonight. All right?”
    I nodded, feeling a pull, a hesitation about myself.
Should I just let him do whatever he wanted to do? He was giving me so much; he
was taking me all over, from benefit to luxurious hotel. And yet; I couldn’t
find it in my heart to forgive him for taking my dance studio. I cleared my
throat and spoke. “I think you should sleep on the floor.” A pause emanated
throughout the room. We couldn’t make eye contact.
    Drew got up from the bed stoically and pulled the
blankets down from the top of the bed, giving me a space to lie down. “Good
night,” he murmured. He began to remove his clothes on his route to the
bathroom, tossing them this way, then that. “Sleep tight.”
    I lay down in the bed, feeling the way the mattress
gave beneath my back. The blankets were an alarmingly wonderful fabric, one
that made me feel at the height of all things comfort, all things fashion. I
inhaled and exhaled a few times, feeling a plaque of regret deep in my stomach.
But I couldn’t linger on it; I couldn’t think about it. I fell into a deep
sleep, allowing myself to dive into a beautiful feeling of freedom.

 
    CHAPTER
EIGHT
    The next morning, I woke up alone in the grand hotel
room. The Iowa October light was filtering in from the outdoors and I rose, pulling
the curtains to the side to see the lines and lines of dead corn from the
previous harvest resonate throughout the land. It looked so much like Indiana
it nearly made my skin crawl.
    I walked around the hotel room, peering at
everything. I found the mat on which Drew had slept the evening before. The
mat’s bedding was completely made, as if he had left a long time ago.
    My stomach grumbled, and I searched for the hotel
phone to order up some breakfast. I dialed the number and someone immediately
answered. “Monsieur Thompson?” the person answered.
    “No—no. I’m his—friend.”
    “Ah, Madame,” the man said knowingly.
    “Right. Anyway, I was hoping to order up some breakfast.” I thought about Drew, what he
would want when he got back. “How about some eggs. Some pastries. Some mimosas.” I
paused. “Perhaps some fruit?”
    “Yes, Madame. Right away.” He hung up the phone and I felt the whirr
of excitement, of