Chapter 87
Sebastian barely glanced at her when they returned home. “Have you moved your things into my room yet?”
Isabella shook her head, her skin pricking with awareness. “No.”
His lips curled. “I expect to see your things in my room before morning.”
She swallowed hard. That was the extent of their conversation that night.
* * * *
Isabella woke up the next morning in Sebastian’s bed, her things moved from her guest room. He lay next to her on his side, one arm draped over her waist.
She couldn’t help how her body reacted. Heat flooded between her thighs, and she clamped her legs together to try and stop it. He looked different in sleep—softer, warmer. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair, kiss him awake.
She almost gave into the urge when his phone rang, shattering the
