Chapter 9
Byron’s face instantly darkened, like storm clouds gathering in his eyes. Maeve noticed his displeasure and scratched her head awkwardly. “If it’s a problem for you, I can always take the couch…”
“No need,” Byron cut her off, his voice cold and firm. “We’ll do it your way.”
He reassured himself that it was just for a few days. At least here no one was breathing down his neck. Sharing a bed with her was something he could handle–at least for now.
Late at night, after a day of total chaos, Maeve finally started to relax as she sank into the soft bed, feeling her muscles slowly unwind.
Just when she was about to drift off, the mattress shifted slightly. She turned her head and found herself staring at Byron’s handsome profile, and her breath hitched in her throat.
‘How did I never notice how small my bed is?‘ she thought, suddenly aware of how cramped it felt. Even with a stuffed animal acting as a makeshift barrier, they were still uncomfortably close. So close she could hear his slow, steady breathing.
Sensing her gaze on him, Byron said, “If you’ve got something on your mind, just spit it out.” His tone was flat, almost bored.
Caught in the act, Maeve felt her cheeks flush, but curiosity got the better of her. “Uh, can I ask… what do you do for a living?”
The first time she met him, he’d been beaten up and on the run from some dangerous people.
Today, he seemed to have been dumped by his fiancée, only to end up marrying her instead. His life looked like a mess, but he had skills. She was especially amazed at how quickly he had found the hidden camera inside her stuffed animal.
Byron’s eyes narrowed as he glanced at her. ‘Is she seriously playing dumb to get me to drop my guard?‘ he wondered.
“I drive,” he said indifferently.
Maeve let out a small sigh of relief. ‘So he’s a driver. That’s not so bad. At least it’s not something shady. And it kinda makes sense with the situation I’m in,‘ she thought.
Comforted by that idea, she closed her eyes and began to drift off.
Byron, on the other hand, was finding it hard to relax. The bed was too small, the mattress wasn’t exactly soft, and even the pillow felt like a rock. But what really got under his skin was Maeve’s hair.
A few stray strands of her hair had drifted over to his side, brushing against his ear. He clenched his teeth, resisting the urge to touch it. His brow furrowed in frustration.
‘Is she doing this on purpose?‘ he wondered.
The morning sunlight was gentle yet warm, spilling into the bedroom and casting a soft, golden glow over the bed. The two figures were tangled up so closely it seemed there wasn’t an inch of space between them,
Byron’s internal clock was as precise as ever. At seven sharp, he stirred awake, his eyes still half–closed with sleep. But something felt off–something warm and soft was pressed up against him.
He glanced down and saw Maeve, who should have been on the other side of the bed, now somehow nestled in his arms.
Her cheeks were tinged with a soft pink, resting against his chest, her arms wrapped around his, and one of her long legs draped over his. She was sound asleep.
x
Byron’s face darkened. He tried to push her away, but she clung to him so tightly he could barely move. Frustrated, he gave
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Chapter 9
her nose a light pinch. Within seconds, she jerked awake, gasping for air.
Still groggy, Maeve blinked up at him in confusion, only to meet his cold, irritated glare.
“Maeve, get off me. Now!” Byron’s voice was sharp, cutting through the last remnants of her sleep and sending a chill down her spine.
Her eyes widened as she realized how tightly she was wrapped around him.
‘Oh shit! The soft, cozy thing I was hugging wasn’t my stuffed animal–it’s Byron!‘ Her face flushed a deep red. She scrambled away, her movements frantic and awkward, trying to get to the edge of the bed.
“I–I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to! I usually sleep so much better…she stammered, her voice full of embarrassment and frantic apologies.
Byron’s frustration only deepened as he listened to her babble. How many times has she said it wasn’t on purpose since we got married? Playing innocent while plotting her moves–just like the rest of the McDaniel family, he thought darkly.
He gave her a cold, hard stare and snapped, “Stay the hell away from me.” With that, he tossed off the covers, climbed out of bed, and stormed out of the room,
Maeve bit back the urge to blurt out, “I mistook you for a damn pillow!” Instead, she swallowed her words, feeling a bit suffocated by his attitude.
Annoyed, she thought, ‘Seriously? It’s not like I did it on purpose. But he acts like I’m some seductress trying to make a move on him–what the hell does he think I am? I’ve got to get his room set up soon.’
Muttering under her breath, Maeve got out of bed to wash up. Afterward, she carefully changed Byron’s bandages before heading to the kitchen to make breakfast.
Byron, now dressed in fresh clothes his bodyguard had dropped off the night before, picked up his watch from the living room table and strapped it onto his wrist.
He glanced over at the kitchen, where Maeve was busy prepping ingredients for two servings, and said coolly, “Don’t bother making breakfast for me. I don’t eat in the mornings.”
“Skipping breakfast is bad for your stomach,” Maeve replied without turning around. “I’ll be done in a minute, and my cooking’s not half bad. You might even like it.”
“I said no…”
“Relax, I’m not charging you for it.”
Byron was momentarily thrown off. He glanced at the clock–forty minutes until his morning meeting.
He figured she was trying to win him over with food. ‘If it were that damn easy, I’d have just married a chef, he thought, annoyed.
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