Chapter 16 It’s Tradition #2
“Is there a guest room somewhere?” she asked, covering her mouth as she yawned. “I’m so tired I don’t even know if I can be bothered to shower before I crash.”
Some stupid, inappropriate part of me wanted to tell her she could sleep in here with me. I pushed that thought down, gesturing for her to follow me as I headed for the stairs
“Lucian’s room is on the right,” I explained as we reached the lower level. “You can take this one.” I opened the door on the guest bedroom to the left. It was smaller than my suite, but still boasted a king-sized bed and a small ensuite shower room.
“Are you sure Lucian won’t try to roll me out of bed and toss me overboard during the night?” she asked, stepping into the space. One slender hand smoothed over the bedspread. “I don’t think he likes me.”
“You’d be right.”
I turned, glaring at my cousin as he appeared in the doorway, Irina’s overnight bag in his hands. He blew out a long breath. “But I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt … for tonight at least.”
He tossed the bag at the foot of the bed and left without another word. Irina rolled her eyes, making a rude gesture at his retreating back. I stifled an exhausted laugh, my eyes meeting Irina’s for a second. The twinkle in hers set off a flutter just below my diaphragm.
“We’ll talk about next steps in the morning,” I said, lingering at the foot of the bed.
She unzipped the bag and pulled out an oversized T-shirt, clean underwear and a small toiletry bag.
It felt so intimate watching her prepare for bed, and I wondered if maybe this was a step too far in this pretend marriage. “I’ll let you get some sleep.”
I turned to go, but she grabbed my arm to stop me.
“Thank you again, for this … for everything today. It really was more than I’d ever expected.” She seemed suddenly shy, eyes on where she gripped my forearm. “I just need you to know how much I appreciate you for everything you’re doing for me.”
“It’s nothing—” I was silenced when she pressed closer, lips brushing my cheek for the fleetest second.
“It’s not nothing, Henry,” she murmured as she pulled away from me, leaving me feeling simultaneously hot and cold. “Goodnight … Hubby.” She winked at me before scooping up her clothes and toiletries and sauntering into the ensuite.
I stood, staring pointlessly at the closed door until I heard the shower start running. Shaking myself, I retreated, closing the bedroom door and returning to my own suite. Abernathy glared at me from his perch on my pillow.
“You’ll see her again in the morning, you fractious feline,” I muttered. My exhaustion had given way to a sort of overtired restlessness, and instead of preparing myself for bed, I sat down in front of my computer, tapping my fingers on the desk.
The photographer lurking outside reminded me that only that morning there had been a man outside Irina’s apartments, watching her. In less than a minute I had Lucian’s dash cam footage downloaded, and I’d managed to capture a few stills of the man.
Knowing I wouldn’t be able to sleep until I’d at least done something to see if I could identify him, I ran facial-recognition software against the grainy stills, cross-referencing it against government databases. Nothing came up. So he wasn’t a known criminal.
I sighed. There were other searches I could run, but they’d have to wait until morning. I wasn’t fresh enough to be slipping through digital back doors tonight.
I saved the stills, planning to ask Lucian in the morning if the man looked like any of the photographers he’d been shooing away from the marina over the last week. If it was them, and they’d worked out where Irina lived …
I removed my glasses, rubbing my eyes before I went in search of my vape. I wasn’t going to be able to sleep tonight without medicating, that much was clear.
I startled awake to Abernathy standing over me, whiskers tickling my cheek.
“What do you want?” I grunted, sitting up. The clock on the bedside read two-thirty.
Abernathy leapt off the bed and trotted out of the room. I followed, rubbing my eyes. He stopped outside Irina’s guest room, turned his head towards me and scratched noisily at the door.
“Stop that!” I hissed. “You can’t go and harass her, she’s asleep!”
Abernathy ignored me utterly, in that haughty way cats have, and continued to scratch. I stifled a groan and leaned down to scoop him up. He wailed shrilly until I dropped him.
“What is wrong with you?”
The door opened a crack, and in the darkness, I could just make out the outline of Irina, hair mussed and T-shirt skimming her thighs. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
Abernathy yowled, shoving his head through the crack. His fat body couldn’t quite fit, though.
“It’s alright,” she mumbled, voice thick with sleep. “Who wants me? You, or the cat?”
“The … the cat,” I stammered, face burning. “I tried to carry him away, but—”
“He can come in. We’ll probably all get better sleep that way.” She opened the door wider, and Abernathy scurried inside.
“See you in the morning, Henry. Unless you want to sleep in here too?” She grinned lazily in my general direction.
“Three is probably a crowd,” I muttered, my stomach flipping. “Good night, you two.”
“G’night,” she slurred, turning away but leaving the door ajar slightly. I stood there like a fool, listening to the rustling sounds as she settled back under the covers, and then the loud rumble of Abs’ purr.
I returned to my room and burrowed under the blankets. That sharp feeling just under my ribs … that wasn’t jealousy.
I wasn’t jealous of my own cat.