And those regrets that could come later?
Well, they had come crashing down about her head the moment Sam had been woken at five o’clock this morning, the sun streaming in through the window of his bedroom, because they had forgotten to draw the curtains the evening before.
Sam had felt totally disorientated when she’d first woken up, taking several seconds to get her bearings, before remembering exactly where she was, and then turning sharply to look down at the man sleeping in the bed beside her.
One look at Xander’s beautifully chiselled face relaxed in sleep, and that gloriously tousled blond hair fanned out on the pillow behind him, with only a thin sheet covering the nakedness of his hips and thighs, leaving his muscled chest bare, and Sam had realised she was in love with him.
That somewhere, somehow, during this past week of sharing an apartment with him—of sharing her past with him; of him sharing the horrors of his childhood with her, and the battle he had suffered these past few weeks, fearing he might be like his father; of just being with Xander constantly; of feeling moved by his protectiveness towards her and his kindness to Daisy—Sam had fallen deeply in love with him.
Which was why she was now going to climb quietly and carefully out of his bed, taking care not to disturb or wake him, and go back to her own bedroom.
To consider how she was ever going to face Xander again.
At least she didn’t have to make the walk of shame, and could simply gather up her scattered clothes from the bedroom floor and walk the short way down the hallway in order to reach the relative sanctuary of her bedroom.
No doubt there had been dozens of women between Xander’s bed sheets over the years. Beautiful women. Sophisticated women. Those same beautiful and sophisticated women who could enjoy casual sex with as accomplished a lover as Xander Sterne, before dressing the following morning and walking away without any regrets.
Unfortunately, Sam now knew she wasn’t any of those things.
She wasn’t beautiful, or sophisticated, but worst of all she certainly wasn’t capable of walking away from Xander without regrets.
Any more than she had wanted to see Xander’s disappointment if he should wake up and feel regret at finding her there beside him in his bed.
* * *
Xander felt wonderfully relaxed when he woke up, the warmth of the morning sun shining across his face and closed lids.
Thoroughly relaxed. And wonderfully satiated in a way he could never remember feeling before. Almost as if he— Not almost. He had made love with Samantha.
Xander’s eyes opened wide and he turned sharply to look at the bed beside him, the events of the previous night washing over him in bright and glorious colour.
He sat up abruptly as he saw the bed beside him was empty. As was his bedroom, Samantha’s clothes gone from the carpeted floor. Nor could he hear any sounds coming from the adjoining bathroom, as evidence that Samantha was taking a shower.
The clock on the bedside table read only six o’clock, so where was she?
Gone, came his immediate answer.
Just to her own bedroom, or from his apartment completely?
Even if Samantha regretted what had happened between the two of them—and her disappearing act seemed to imply she did—surely she wouldn’t have woken Daisy up in the middle of the night and just left without saying a word to him? Especially with her ex-husband on the prowl and ready to pounce.