Читать книгу Whose Bed Is It Anyway? - Natalie Anderson - Страница 3

‘So, you’re not here for …’ He broke off and almost looked uncomfortable. ‘Me.’

His lips thinned as he turned back to glare at her. She was used to full-on media ‘glare,’ but his dark-eyed look was just about the fiercest, most cutting scrutiny she’d had to withstand.

‘I’m—’

‘Sorry,’ she snapped. ‘The word you’re looking for is sorry.’

‘Tired,’ he said firmly. ‘I’m tired and I made a mistake. And I’m sorry, but you can’t stay here.’

She needed this bed.

‘Look.’ She abandoned all dignity and pride. ‘We can figure something out. I’ll take the floor.’

Rigid, his glare pierced deeper. It was a wonder her bones didn’t snap from the force emanating from him.

‘You are not sleeping on the floor.’

Implacable? Yeah—he had the whole stubborn attitude on.

‘Fine.’ She switched tack. ‘We’ll share’