No, Xander was sure Samantha wouldn’t have done that.
But there was no denying she had left his bedroom.
Why?
She’d seemed happy enough the night before, as she had snuggled comfortably in his arms before they both fell into an exhausted sleep.
Damn it. He had been so thoroughly satiated the previous night, so exhausted by their lovemaking after suffering weeks of physical limitations, that he hadn’t even woken when Samantha crept from his bed!
He now ran an agitated hand through his already tousled hair, the tenderness of his scalp reminding him of the way she had tightly gripped his hair when she climaxed a second time as he’d fiercely thrust and pulsed inside her.
Now she had gone, crept from his bed like a thief in the night. As if last night had meant nothing to her. As if he meant nothing to her.
And perhaps he didn’t, Xander realised with a frown, as he recalled their conversation just before they had made love. Their discussion of the problem of her ex-husband, and the way in which he intended dealing with that problem, for both her own and Daisy’s sakes.
Could Samantha have gone to bed with him, made love, out of gratitude for just the thought of that help reaching fruition?
Because he had made it obvious he wanted her, and she hadn’t liked to say no?
* * *
‘Cereal, pancakes, or eggs and bacon?’ Sam prompted briskly as Xander made an appearance in the kitchen doorway just after eight o’clock, her daughter already seated at the breakfast bar eating the last of her pancakes.
It was a grim-faced Xander who looked at her with dark and wary eyes, nothing like the wild and satisfying lover of the night before. Or the relaxed and satiated man Sam had left asleep in bed earlier this morning.
Any more than she looked—or felt—like the uninhibited woman of the night before.
Her cheeks felt warm just thinking of the intimacies the two of them had shared the previous night. ‘Or maybe just your usual coffee?’ she carried on hurriedly as Xander made no reply but just continued to look at her searchingly with those dark and enigmatic eyes.
But searching for what?
Regrets?
Sam had plenty of those!
Rebuke?
She had absolutely nothing to rebuke Xander for, had been a more than willing participant to their lovemaking.
So what was Xander looking for as he gazed at her so intently?
Whatever it was, he didn’t seem to have found it, the expression in his dark eyes becoming even more guarded as he stepped further into the kitchen. ‘Just coffee is fine, thanks,’ he answered as he moved to sit opposite Daisy. ‘How are you this morning, Daisy-flower?’ His voice noticeably softened as he spoke to the little girl.
Sam efficiently poured coffee into a mug and placed it in front of him before collecting up Daisy’s empty plate and returning to tidy up the stove top, her back turned towards the room as tears blurred her vision.
This was awful. Worse than she had even imagined it might be.
In her imaginings there had at least been a stilted conversation between herself and Xander, in which he would say something like you were right, last night was a bad idea, and Sam would urge him to forget about it, as she already had.