Byron’s face darkened, like storm clouds gathering in eyes. Maeve noticed his displeasure scratched her cheek awkw: ly. “If it’s a problem for you, can always take couch…” “No Byron cut her off, his cold and firm. “We’ll do it way. He himself that it was just for a days. At least was breathing down his neck. He thought sharing a bed her something he couldn’t handle. Late at night, after of chaos, Maeve finally started to she sank into soft feeling her muscles unwind. Just when was about drift off, the mattress slightly. She turned head and found herself staring at handsome profile, her breath hitched in her throat. ‘How I never notice how small my bed is?’ thought, suddenly of how cramped it felt, Even with a acting as a makeshift barrier, they still uncomfortably close. So close could hear his slow, steady breathing. “If you’ve got something on your mind, just it out,” Byron said, sensing her eyes on him. tone was flat, almost bored. Maeve, caught red-handed, her cheeks flush. curiosity got better her. can I what do you do for a living? first time she met he’d been up on the run from some people. Today, he to have been dumped by his only to end up marrying her instead. His a mess, but had skills. She was especially amazed quickly had found hidden camera inside her stuffed animal. Byron’s eyes as he glanced at her. ‘Is she seriously playing dumb me to drop my guard?’ he wondered. “I drive,” he said, shrugging like it was nothing. Maeve let out a sigh relief. ‘So he’s a driver. That’s bad. At least it’s not something shady. And kinda makes sense with I’m in,” she thought. Comforted idea, she her eyes and began to drift off. Byron, on the other hand, finding it hard to relax. The bed was too small, the mattress exactly pillow felt like rock. But what really got under his skin was hair. A few stray strands of her drifted over to his side, brushing against his ear. clenched his teeth, resisting t His brow furrowed in frustration. she doing this on purpose?’ he wondered. morning sunlight was gentle into the bedroom and a golden glow the bed. figures were tangled closely it seemed there wasn’t an of space between them. Byron’s internal clock was as as ever. seven sharp, stirred awake, still half-closed with sleep. But something felt warm soft pressed up against him. He glanced and saw Maeve, who should have been the other side of the bed, now nestled in his arms. Her cheeks were tinged with a pink, resting against his chest arms wrapped around his, and one of her long legs 14:54 Mon, Oct 14NG. draped over his. She was sound asleep. Byron’s face darkened. He tried to push her away, but she him so tightly he could barely move. he gave her a light pinch. Within seconds, she jerked gasping for air. Still groggy, Maeve blinked at him confusion, only to meet his cold, irritated glare. “Maeve, get off me. Now!” Byron’s voice was sharp, cutting through last remnants of sending a chill down her spine. Her eyes widened as realized how tightly was wrapped around him. Oh shit! The thing I was wasn’t my stuffed animal-it’s Her face flushed a deep red. She scrambled away, her movements frantic and awkward, trying to get to the edge of the bed. “I-I’m so I mean to! I usually sleep so much better…” she stammered, voice full of embarrassment and frantic apologies. Byron’s deepened as he listened to her babble. How many has said it wasn’t on purpose since we got married? Playing innocent plotting her like the rest of the McDaniel family, thought darkly. He gave a hard stare and snapped, “Stay hell from me. ” With that, he tossed the covers, climbed out bed, out of the room. bit back the urge to blurt out, “I mistook for a damn pillow!” Instead, swallowed her words, feeling a bit suffocated by his attitude. Annoyed, she thought, ‘Seriously? It’s not like I did on purpose. But he like some trying to make a move on him-what the hell does he think I am? I’ve got to get his room set up soon. her breath, Maeve out to wash up. Afterward, she carefully Byron’s bandages heading to the to make breakfast. Byron, now in fresh clothes his bodyguard had dropped the night before, picked up his watch from the living table and strapped onto his wrist. He glanced over at kitchen, where Maeve was busy prepping for servings, said coolly, bother making breakfast me. I don’t eat in the mornings. “Skipping breakfast is bad for your Maeve without turning around. “I’ll done a and my cooking’s not bad. You might even it. “I said no…” not charging you for it. momentarily thrown off. He glanced at the clock-forty minutes until his morning meeting. He figured she was trying to win him over with food. ‘If it that easy, I’d have a chef, he thought, annoyed.