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body…
    “About?”
    “Being a rebound?”
    He lifted his head. “Not possible. Tell me, Neiriouri. What’s your husband’s name?”
    Neiri made a face of complete confusion. He rested back against the counter, patiently waiting for her to recall the man she’d spent five years of her life with. “Jesus Christ,” she muttered, her hands pressed to her cheeks.
    “Don’t think that’s his name,” Roshan said.
    She slipped off the stool with a huff. “Let’s go.”
    “Where to?”
    “Your bed, and we don’t mention this again.” She pointed a finger at him as his lips twitched in amusement. “Or I’m going back to my flat.”
    “I thought I said no to that?” He wrapped his hand around her fist and gently rubbed until she relaxed. “It’s all right, Neiri. Whatever else happens tonight, you can blame Min.”

Chapter Six
     
     
    The fourth night…
     
    The stinging sensation on her shoulders woke her. She’d let that bloody man bite her. Everywhere. She’d let that bloody man do a lot of things to her. All because he’d quite literally fucked her husband’s name out of her head. Letting him do what he willed with her was a fair exchange, she supposed. Blinking, she turned her head to see the enormous man who’d played with her until the early hours of the morning had transformed into an even more enormous tiger, snoring beside her, the bristles of his fur digging into her skin. She sneezed and the tiger sprang up onto his paws.
    “Sorry,” she murmured. “I think it’s just when you’re a…” The sneeze interrupted her.
    The tiger shook himself until Roshan appeared, crouched on the mattress. “I apologise. I’ve never shifted in my sleep before. Where are your tablets?”
    “In my dress. Which is probably a frozen little pile now.”
    She sneezed again and he disappeared. Sitting up, she blinked until her eyes felt less irritated. Roshan jogged back into the room with her packet of antihistamines in one hand and her dress in the other. He gently draped her dress over the base of the bed, took a cup from the dispenser and poured her some water to take with the tablet.
    “Thank you,” she breathed.
    Naked and in the moonlight, Roshan Ahsani proved to be a hedonistic, sensual, visual feast. Naked in the winter sunlight, he made her want to start laughing. Again. There had to be synapses disconnected in her brain. She’d slept with the man. How did she still want to giggle looking at him?
    He took the glass from her hand. “Better?”
    “Sorry,” she apologised again, lifting her knees to her chest under the sheets and hooking her arms around her legs.
    “Don’t be silly,” he chided. “It’s not your fault. I must have been comfortable to change mid-sleep.”
    Face hot with pleasure, she wrapped her arms tighter around her legs. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
    “You should. Now that I haven’t sent you into anaphylactic shock, can I bring you something to eat?”
    Was he really going to let her get crumbs all over his one-thousand-thread-count sheets? “Coffee and toast?”
    “Is that a question, or that’s what you want?”
    “I’d love some coffee and toast, please.”
    He tilted his head to her, a smile curving his firm lips. Leaning forward, he cupped her face and brushed his lips over hers. “Good morning, by the way.”
    “’Lo.” She fought to keep the giggling under control, and barely after he closed the bedroom door she was stifling her laughter in the folds of the duvet. “He’s so ridiculous.”
    In a few minutes, he returned with a glass tray, loaded with triangles of toast, little pots of jam, a cafetiere and two espresso mugs. He held it with one hand, to nudge her legs straight with the other, before he tucked the tray on her lap. She watched him pour her a coffee, adding plenty of milk, just as she preferred. “What would you like on your toast?”
    It was far too early in the morning to say what she really wanted and deferred to strawberry