Page 36 of Ruthless Claim

5

VALENTINA

I wake up warm.

That’s the first thing I register, before my brain has fully committed to consciousness.

There’s something warm near me, and it has the specific, deep warmth of another body pressed against mine.

There’s a heavy arm draped across my waist and slow even breathing against the back of my neck.

Then the memories arrive all at once.

The wine glass.

The wall.

The second kiss—the one I started, which I cannot attribute to temporary insanity because it wasn’t temporary and I was in full possession of my faculties, unfortunately.

The table.

The hallway, which I had forgotten about and have now remembered, and I’m going to need a moment with that.

The bedroom, finally, falling asleep at some point before dawn with my face against his chest and his arm around me, which didn’t feel wrong in the dark and now feels absolutely catastrophic in the morning light.

Multiple times.

I close my eyes.

I had sex with Cillian Brennan multiple times.

Of my own volition.

With enthusiasm.

On a dining table, against a wall, and in the bed we swore would be divided down the center by a sacred and inviolable DMZ, which is currently nowhere in evidence.

Fuck.

The worst part? It was the best sex I have had in my entire life. Double fuck.

I stare at the ceiling, doing an inventory of my terrible decisions—of which there are many—before taking a deep breath. I need to get out of here. Now.

Slowly and ever so carefully, I lift his arm by the wrist and slide out from under it inch by inch, holding my breath each time the mattress shifts under me.

Cillian snorts in his sleep and I freeze, my heart beating a staccato in my chest.

But then his breathing evens back out and I finish my extraction, breathing a sigh of relief when my feet hit the carpet below.

Snatching my robe, I flee to the bathroom and shut the door behind me, relief pouring through me.

Taking a deep breath, I straighten up and look into the mirror.

What I see has me learning against the door again.

The woman looking back at me has dark hair that looks like a rat’s nest. Mascara is smudged beneath both eyes and her lips are visibly swollen.

I would like to note, for the record, that I have never woken up looking like this in my life.