Just before she lost consciousness, she remembered what she had forgotten and felt a brief flash of panic. She’d promised this weekend to Chad.
Then she felt nothing at all.
Rising up from the depths of drug-induced sleep was always a bitch, but today wasn’t as bad as usual. At least that’s what Lyssa told herself as JB’s persistent grumbling woke her. Eyes closed, she snuggled further into the warmth of the blanket and realized she was cuddling chenille. Which could only mean one thing—she had slept on the couch again. The only place she kept a chenille throw.
To wake up on the sofa meant…It had all been a dream.
Aidan.
She heaved out a breath that was both relieved and sad. She finally remembered a dream in vivid detail, which was great, but so was Aidan. At least he seemed as if he was. And he wasn’t real.
JB continued his impatient kneading of her thigh. She took the hint and opened her eyes. The ceiling was lit with mid-morning sunlight. She sighed again, and her nostrils filled with the smell of fresh coffee. Turning her head, Lyssa looked for her mother, then froze in place, her breath seizing in her lungs.
Just a few feet away was a sight that filled her with awe. In the center of her living room, Aidan stood with legs spread wide, his powerful back glistening with a fine sheen of sweat as he arched his body sinuously through a series of movements that looked like Tai Chi. With one major difference—Aidan was holding a massive sword that looked something like Excalibur. Her coffee table had been pushed aside to make room for his lunges and his wielding of the glinting blade.
She watched him with mouth agape, amazed at the beauty of his rippling muscles and the easy strength with which he held that impossibly heavy-looking sword. He tossed it easily to his other hand, working that side, displaying the same proficiency with that arm as he had shown with his dominant one. He moved silently, making no sound. Not even the rapid swing of the blade disturbed the peaceful morning silence.
As she admired him with ever heightening arousal, Lyssa wondered why the sight of a stranger with a wicked sword didn’t scare the shit out of her. Instead she was getting turned on. Seriously turned on.
Aidan turned at that moment, his blue eyes meeting hers, the intense concentration on his features melting into a devastatingly wicked smile. He winked, burning out every brain cell she had, and continued his routine.
“Morning, Hot Stuff,” he murmured, his voice not even breathless.
“Hi,” she whispered back, enthralled by the beauty of his honed warrior’s body and the feeling of contentment she felt at his endearment. He was pure, sexually charged male, and his blatant sensuality reminded her that she was female, with needs that had long been suppressed by exhaustion. Her nipples peaked hard and tight, aching. Her skin flushed, making her hot, reminding her of his fever. “How are you feeling this morning?”
He arched a brow. “Great. And if you keep looking at me like that, I’ll show you just how great.”
A tremor shifted through her. “Promises, promises,” she teased, her voice husky.
“Don’t tempt me more than you already are. After spending the night with you wrapped around me, I’m more than willing to make you late for work.”
Wrapped around him. Damn, that’s why she hated taking drugs. She wished she could remember that.
“How did I end up on the couch?”
“I carried you. I wanted to be the first thing you saw when you woke up. We have to talk.”
Pushing up from the sofa, she ran a hand over her mussed hair and wrinkled her nose. She didn’t look tempting in the morning. She looked like shit. A quick glance at the clock revealed that it was nine in the morning. “I have to take a shower. I have work in an hour.”
“Go get ready,” he said, his words tossed over his shoulder as he turned away from her again. “I’ll have coffee waiting for you when you come down.”
She stood and stretched. “Thanks. There’s vanilla creamer in the fridge.”
“Got it. And you like two sweetener packets, too.”
“Uh, yeah…” She frowned at how much he remembered about her, then took the stairs.
It felt a little strange, the settled domesticity they were sharing, especially when the man she was being domestic with was half naked and waving a sword in her living room. But it was only slightly strange. Mostly it fit, soothed her, gave her a spring to her step and a higher lift to her chin.
She took her time in the shower, even though she knew she was going to be late. Stacey wouldn’t admit it, but she had been scheduling the first appointment a bit later than she let on, giving Lyssa time to get it together in the morning. Today Lyssa made the most of it, shaving her legs with extra care and then rubbing her favorite country-apple-scented body oil into her wet skin. As the pelting spray washed away the last of her grogginess, Lyssa started thinking about Aidan.