Had it only now occurred to her that their charade of marriage included sharing a bedroom?
“It's a king-size bed,” he pointed out, waving a hand in that direction. “We can both sleep in it without even bumping into each other during the night.”
She looked from him to that big bed and back again. “I don't think so.”
Reaching up to squeeze the back of his neck, he spoke with deliberate impatience. “Trust me, Brittany, you are entirely safe with me tonight. We can't risk anyone suspecting that our 'marriage' is anything other than what I've said, so we'll share the bed, but only for sleeping. I plan to crash for a couple of hours and then I have some work to do on my computer before I meet with Drake tomorrow.”
B.J. flushed, and it wasn't hard to see that she had interpreted his tone to mean that he had no interest in taking advantage of sharing a bed with her. His use of the name she had answered to as a teenager had probably reinforced the impression that he saw her only as an inconvenient reminder of his past, still just a girl in whom he had no particular romantic interest.
It hadn't been true then and it wasn't now. But he saw no reason to share that with her. Once she recovered from her embarrassment, she should be much more comfortable sharing this suite with him if she was reassured that she didn't have to worry about him making unwelcome passes.
At least, he assumed they would be unwelcome. And if they weren't—well, that created a whole new set of problems.
She lifted her chin in a proud little gesture he knew very well and pushed a hand through her short hair, making it stand in defiant spikes around her heated face. “You can sleep wherever you like. I'm so tired I won't even notice you're in the same suite. And tomorrow, after we've both rested, I expect for you to find a way to get me out of this intolerable charade and back to my life as quickly as possible.”
He nodded. “I'll wait in the sitting room until you're in bed. I'll try not to disturb you when I come in or when I get back up.”
She nodded curtly and turned toward the bathroom. “By the way,” she said over her shoulder, her voice still icy, “I really prefer to answer to B.J.”
“I'll try to remember.”
“Do that.”
The bathroom door closed with a snap that almost made him wince.
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