Back in bed thanks to Samuel, I get right to work. I’m grateful when he excuses himself and leaves the room. It’s nice that they don’t mind giving me some breathing room and alone time. Within twenty minutes I've turned on the laptop, found all my files needing to be backed up, and I store a copy of everything on a USB drive, and a second backup copy on my external hard drive. If I had another place to save it, I’d be all over creating a backup to the backup to the backup. I’m that paranoid about losing my work.

I finish up, all while my vision keeps going fuzzy. No wonder I’m nauseous. Anyone having to endure this level of dizziness is bound to feel sick. I'm slightly perturbed that I can't use anything but these physical drives to save my files. Cloud storage would set me at ease, but it’s a moot point, with the internet and cable down. As power can go off anytime, I borrow a charger from Samuel to keep my phone juiced up. There must be a cell phone tower that’s down or something. I can’t get a signal when I turn it on to check for messages.

That little amount of work brings on more exhaustion than what I’d feel after writing for eight hours. The bump on my head must be more than a little serious, but I much prefer resting in this bed than sitting in an emergency waiting room, only to be told to take bed rest and a few doses of over the counter headache medicine.

Stretching out in bed again, I close my eyes. It’s only a matter of minutes before I doze off, but part of me can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched. Which is strangely…comforting.

I really want to see Bastian. Maybe that desire is what keeps me awake even though my eyes are closed. And deep down, I know he’s here. Close. His presence in the room is as real to me as if he’s standing right in front of me. That’s why I continue to act as though I’m asleep. The wooden floor creaks under his weight as he steps closer. When one side of the bed sinks down with his weight as he sits, I stay perfectly still. And the second he runs his fingertips down the side of my face, I make my move.

Reaching up with both hands, I grasp each side of his open flannel shirt, gripping it tightly as I meet his unsuspecting aquamarine blue eyes. My eyes scan his face, and as I take in the scar tissue that covers one side of his jaw, a part of his ear and down his neck, he pulls back.

“Hi, Bastian.”

“Hi.”

“You know, you’re not as stealth as you probably think you are.”

“I was just—” he starts to explain, but I raise my eyebrows and cut him off.

“Just brushing your hand against my cheek to see if I was still breathing? Taking my temperature to make sure I didn’t have a fever? I don’t think so. You were watching me. And it seems to me, it’s only fair that I should get a chance to take a good look at you too. At the very least, I’d like to meet the man whose bed I slept in last night, and who risked his life not once, but twice, to save me and one of the two things that matter most to me in this world.”

He stares at me with a look of confusion but doesn’t say a word.

“Thank you for what you did last night. And for loaning me this shirt, since I don’t have clothes of my own here.”

“No problem,” he says, still seeming stunned.

“I’m Elle,” I tell him.

“I know.”

“So, who is she, then?”

“I…what are you talking about?” he mumbles.

“You keep staring at me. I figure I must look like someone you know or something. So tell me. Who do I look like?”

“No one. That’s not why…” the amazement on his face is slowly replaced by a muted smile that barely lifts his lips. “Hey, are you hungry?” he offers.

He’s changing the subject, but my stomach growls loudly in response to the question.

“Probably a little, but I’m not sure if I should eat anything too heavy. I want to eat, but it can just as easily be an upset stomach. Toast will be great.”

“Would you like coffee too? Or juice maybe?”

“I’ll try the coffee. Black, no sugar.”

“Great. You might want to let go of me now.”

“I probably should, but making you squirm is kind of fun to watch up close…you know, giving you a taste of your own medicine. By staring, I mean. Don’t think I didn’t notice.” A hint of anger flickers in his eyes. They go dark, almost ocean blue as his pupils dilate. “Has anyone ever told you that you’ve got really pretty eyes?”

“You think my eyes are pretty?” he asks, but the question comes off like a statement of disbelief.

“I do. They’re…how should I put it? Expressive. And the color’s all over the map. From green to blue to everything in between…Caribbean sea green, cerulean, aquamarine, to this deep cyan color it is right now… depending on your mood. They’d be perfect for one of the characters in a book I’m writing.”

“Would they now?”

“They really would.”

“Well, keep staring at them, and you’ll see what color they are…when I kiss you.”

“Sorry, what?”

“You heard me,” he whispered. “Pretty soon I won’t be able to stop myself, on account of how your lips have been inches from mine for more than a minute.” His gaze travels slowly down my body pausing where the covers end then blazing a trail back to my eyes. “You’re holding onto my shirt, lying here in my bed, wearing my clothes and nothing underneath, sounding as sexy and vulnerable as you look. And if I kiss you, Samuel will have to kiss you too.” He pauses, studying my face. Then he adds, “We share everything. Including women.”

“Well, I…”

I don’t have an answer to that. As a matter of fact, maybe I was teasing him, turning on the charm to get a rise out of him. Except his words don’t just hit home, they ignite parts of me I never knew could feel from words alone. I’m thrown off balance by the idea that he wants to kiss me. Well, more off balance than I already feel.

We share everything. Including women.

The words enter my psyche and reverberate in my head. I’m acutely aware of my body’s reaction. Heat rises up my neck to my cheek. My nipples harden and become sensitive. And a wave of need spreads out from deep in my stomach. I’d be lying if I don’t admit to myself that I’m highly aroused and very curious. I let go of his shirt and sit up in the bed, leaning back on the solid wooden headboard to regain some measure of control. I don’t know these men. I can’t afford to let either of them get the wrong idea. Hell, I can’t allow myself fall into this trap. Because if his words are so powerful, so potent that they send my need into the stratosphere, how the hell am I going to act if he really does kiss me?

If they both do?

Smoothing down the front of my shirt, I return my gaze to his and try not to look rattled.

He gets up from his seat on the bed. “Okay, I’ll grab a tray and get you something to eat.”

“Great. Thanks.”

I take a breath to calm the pounding in my chest as he leaves the room. If only it were as easy to tamp down the throbbing between my legs.