Caleb leaned an elbow on the top of the chair next to him. “I didn’t ask to get into your knickers, darling. I simply offered to help undo a zipper.” And if his fingertips happened to slide over her skin as he did so . . .
If he didn’t know better, Caleb would swear Snow’s eyelid twitched. “I can manage,” she said, turning toward the door next to the stove, then turning back his way to ask, “How did you find me, anyway?”
“Spotted a flier in a music shop down in Nashville for some Ruby festival. One of the sponsors was Snow’s Curiosity Shop.” He shrugged. “Figured it was worth checking out.”
“Lucky break,” Snow mumbled under her breath. “I’ll get some blankets for the couch.”
“Uh-uh,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
Glancing toward the miniature sofa on his left, Caleb said, “I’m not sleeping there. This couch is about four feet too small. I’ll be sleeping in the bed.”
Propping both hands on her hips, Snow glared. “You expect me to give up my bed and sleep on the couch?”
“I never said that. You can sleep next to me,” he said, enjoying this saucy side of his wife.
“We agreed,” she said.
“We agreed to no sex. There was no mention of not sleeping together.” Caleb stepped into the kitchen and perused the contents of the skinny fridge. “We’re husband and wife, and that means sharing the same bed.” Turning her way, he added, “You don’t think you can sleep next to me without jumping my bones?”
Her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. “I’m sure I won’t feel tempted at all.”
Chapter 4
Snow had clearly underestimated her opponent.
Sleeping next to Caleb and not having sex with him was going to test every last ounce of her willpower. She didn’t know where it came from, but the man had some weird hold over her. Not that Snow would ever admit that annoying truth aloud.
But refusing to sleep with him would be a point in Caleb’s favor. Reveal a weakness she had no doubt he’d capitalize on. Massaging her temples, Snow considered her options, and the only real choice she had was to buck up and do it. To crawl into bed with the man and prove that she was not the weak one.
Maybe she could put pillows down the center, delineating a “his” side and a “her” side. He’d likely accuse her of needing the added protection to keep her own urges in check, but Snow would argue the barrier was to keep him out of her space. Which went beyond stupid. If Caleb wanted to invade her side of the bed, no amount of feathers would stop him. And, Snow feared, neither would she.
The sound of the microwave accompanied by loud whistling let her know he was making himself at home. The happy tune set her teeth on edge. Caleb thought this was going to be so easy. A sexy grin with a little innuendo and she’d be begging him to breach more than a measly pillow wall.
Snow’s spine stiffened. Her husband-for-now was in for a surprise. Not only was she not going to have sex with him, but she would make his every waking minute miserable for the next month. Two weeks max and he’d be heading back to Louisiana.
That thought made her feel guilty. She was still processing the fact that he hadn’t meant the words he’d said to his father. Not that he’d replaced them now with declarations of love and endless devotion, but there was no doubt Caleb was determined to make this marriage work, so he must care for her.
For that reason alone, she’d agreed to give this a chance, and Caleb had been right. She owed him that much. But when this fell apart, as it inevitably would, they would go their separate ways. For good. Snow had never imagined she’d be a divorcée at the age of twenty-seven, but she also never fathomed doing something as stupid as marrying a virtual stranger in Las Vegas. This was a situation of her own making, and now she had to get herself out of it.
“I don’t hear any water running,” drawled a deep voice through the door.
Snow jumped away from the slat of wood and shot an evil glare she wished could travel through walls. “I’m getting my clothes together,” she answered, honey dripping from every word.
“Hope it’s that little red number,” he said. “I’ve missed that one a lot.”
Snow jerked a pillow off the bed and threw it at the door. As expected, it didn’t make a sound. She’d worn “that little red number” on their wedding night. And several times during their first month of wedded bliss, though she didn’t know why she’d bothered.
Most of the time, Caleb had managed to get Snow out of her unmentionables in less time than it took her to get into them. Not that she’d complained much at the time. When he was shirtless and that light shone in his eyes, the slips of lace practically melted to the floor. The memories alone sent heat spreading through her abdomen.