Damian swallowed as he stared at the small double bed that took up most of the room in the inn. The last room, of course. Because, of course it was the last room, and of course there was only one bed. And of course there wasn’t enough floor space to even think about sleeping down there. No, all four walls were pressed tight around the bed, leaving only enough room to sidle awkwardly around the mattress.
With a muttered curse, he turned and moved toward the door. “I’m going to sleep in the stables with the rest of my men.”
As if on cue, the heavens suddenly opened up and a raging storm flew through the trees, rattling the branches against the windows. Through the trees, he could see the lanterns by the stables shake as his men made the race to get inside. The air in the room turned almost icy, and Raven seemed to unconsciously shiver. She sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the oil lamp on the side table. Apparently there wasn’t enough wood or peat to heat all the rooms tonight either, so they would have to share body heat.
Damian couldn’t even find the energy to pretend to be surprised. Even if he made it out to the stables, he bet something else would just guide him back here. The only choice was to just accept his fate. He sighed and started shucking off the ridiculous, overly flamboyant dress clothes, dropping them into a pile in the corner of the room.
“What are you doing?” Raven’s voice was an awkward breath, and he turned to see her staring at him, gasping softly.
Her breasts strained against that ridiculous piece of lace that was performing miracles at holding them in. Damian found himself staring, his thoughts wandering to what they might feel like if he touched them. Had her breasts always looked that good? Probably. She did have very nice breasts… not that he was admiring or anything. It was just an observation. Purely scientific, of course.
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