by Jane Lark
“She might be right, though?” I did feel like jumping him in his sleep. It would be a great way to escape the blackness which kept threatening to swamp me.
His gaze focused up at me as he scanned my face. “She could be right, yes…”
Well, he didn’t know me, and I’d said nothing about myself, bar my name and my age. “She isn’t. You’re safe.”
“Phew, thank fuck for that.”
I laughed. He was a nice guy. There weren’t many of those in the world. I wasn’t used to them.
My eyes shifted to the white pillow on the hard floor behind him. Then I looked at him again.
“So anyway, seeing as I’ve promised not to jump you in your sleep, why don’t you share the mattress? If you’re safe, it seems silly you trying to sleep out here.” I’d be good. He deserved for me to be good. He’d been kind to me.
He looked at me for a long moment. I didn’t move, holding out against his assessment.
I wasn’t blind. I knew he liked what he saw. I was wearing his t-shirt, my legs were bare, and I’d nothing on underneath. It would be so easy to be bad. His gaze ran up my legs and my body then came to my face. But he wasn’t that sort of guy.
All men looked. It didn’t mean all men let themselves touch.
“Yeah, okay, I won’t get any sleep here anyway.”
He picked up his pillow and stood, then lifted the pillow indicating for me to walk ahead.
I went into the bathroom, while he lay down on the mattress, under the covers.
When I came back in, he was watching me, one arm behind his head.
I said nothing, walked to the other side and got in.
He probably wouldn’t mind if I jumped him, but he’d have a hell of a conscience the next day when he spoke to his Lindy.
I turned my back to him and felt him roll onto his stomach. My body was intensely aware of his, and all I could hear was his breathing as he drifted into sleep, while all I could smell was his shampoo, because he’d showered after I’d bathed.
This had been a weird day, I’d finally left Declan and within hours I’d acquired a stranger. My brain wasn’t on the same page as where my life had gotten to. I’d walked out on the life of rich egotistical playboys, and into an opposite extreme.
An ex had once called me a parasite––maybe I was. But maybe I didn’t want to be anymore.
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Jane Lark
I love writing authentic, passionate and emotional love stories. I began my first novel, a historical, when I was sixteen, but life derailed me a bit when I started suffering with Ankylosing Spondylitis, so I didn’t complete a novel until after I was thirty when I put it on my to do before I’m forty list. Now I love getting caught up in the lives and traumas of my characters, and I’m so thrilled to be giving my characters life in others’ imaginations, especially when readers tell me they’ve read the characters just as I’ve tried to portray them.
You can follow me on Twitter @JaneLark.
About HarperImpulse
HarperImpulse is an exciting new range of romance fiction brought to you from the women’s fiction team at HarperCollins. Our aim is to break new talent from debut authors and import the hottest trends from the US, bringing you the very best in romance. Whether that is through short reads for your mobile phone or epic sagas that span the generations we want to proudly publish romance fiction that gets everybody talking.
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Writers, we are simply looking for good stories! So, what are you waiting for? To submit, e-mail us at [email protected].
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