Page 7 of Beautiful Soul

Where the hell was she and how the hell did she get here?

When a hand shifted on her side and then around her waist to cover her belly, she panicked. Jerking away, she rolled herself out from under the covers and off the bed. She landed on the harLWood floors with an oomph.

“Lena? Are you okay?”

The voice was familiar with its slight British accent, but in her befuddled state she could not put a name on it. Not sure how to answer, Lena sat up and took stock. She had landed on the harLWood floor hitting her butt and left elbow. Both smarted, letting her know there would be bruises later despite the extra fleshy padding she carried. Tilting her head back, she looked into a pair of bright green eyes.

Kingsley. The beautiful man who had invited her for tea and then ordered them lavender tea and croissants. Looking into his face, she could not tell if he was amused or worried at her rolling out of bed in a moment of panic.

Pushing aside the pain in her ass and elbow, she gave him the same answer she told everyone, whether or not it was the truth.

“I’m fine,” she said softly.

Kingsley shook his head at her before shifting back on the bed. “No, you are not. Come back to bed. You haven’t slept nearly long enough.”

“Um, first, where’s the bathroom?” she asked.

Kingsley pointed to the door beside the dresser. “Through there.”

“Thank you,” Lena said.

She worked to get her feet under her and stand while fighting to hold back the groans and grunts she would normally issue as she got up off the floor. Once on her feet, she vowed to start doing the yoga videos she had sitting on the DVD player. Getting old was not for the weak and she had been lax in keeping fit ever since…

No.

She would not LWell on the past. She needed to stay focused on the present. The biggest questions to be answered were where was she, how did she get here, and had she done anything slutty that she could not remember, but would regret once she recovered her memory?

After using the facilities in the softly lit large, elegantly appointed bathroom with black marble and chrome fixtures, Lena washed her hands. Though she tried not to look into the mirror, she could not help it, then frowned at her reflection. The scars stood out on her skin, across her forehead, down both cheeks, and across her nose, chin, and neck.

She had been lucky her ex had not cut deeper or she would have died that night. Or maybe that would have been a better thing.

Shaking off the dark thoughts, she used her fingers to bring some order to her hair, but the wavy strands would not be tamed without a shower and a good comb.

How would she get home without looking like she had spent the night in a man’s bed? And why did doing the “walk of shame” bother her so? It wasn’t as if anyone would actually look at her for more than a second or two. And at her age, did she really care what anyone thought? Especially since nothing had happened between her and Kingsley … or had it?

She opened the bathroom door and hesitated. Morning light streamed in from a window across the room, illuminating a large bed with a sleepy-looking Kingsley lying in it, watching her. He winked and flipped the covers back as he said gently, “Come back to bed, sweetling, and we’ll talk, if that’s what you really want.”

She knew she should get dressed and head home, but a soul-deep need for connection had Lena slowly crossing the room. She stopped beside the bed and looked down at Kingsley.

“If you come back to bed, I will swear to you on whatever you want that nothing will happen unless you want it to,” Kingsley stated in a tone that sent a shiver through Lena.

He sounded so solemn and serious she knew she would be safe with him. She just could not claim the same. Since arriving at Mystic’s Café, something had woken up her slumbering libido. She could not say if it was the café’s aura, the unique repast they had shared, or the man himself, but something had her wanting to do more than simply lie beside her host.

Much more.

But her questions needed to be answered before anything else happened between them. Only then would she decide what her next move would be.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Lena gave herself one of the self-comforting hugs she had gotten so good at giving over the past few years as she asked, “Where are we? How did we get here? What happened last night? Did we…?”

She winced when she heard the words she was speaking. She should have asked only one question and in a tone that was not quite so cold and accusatory.

Kingsley did not seem offended. Instead of kicking her out, he sat up and shifted to lean against the headboard. “You look cold. Come back to bed and I’ll answer your questions.”

She hesitated, but realized his observation was correct, she was cold. Climbing onto the mattress, she mirrored his position, sitting with her back to the headboard. She pulled the covers up to cover as much as she could. At once, warmth began to settle into her skin.

“Answers, please,” she said, turning to look at the gorgeous man beside her.

Kingsley met her gaze with a warm, sexy, green-eyed one of his own. “We are in my bedroom. In my apartment three floors above the café. I carried you up here after you fell asleep at the café. I didn’t want to wake you and send you home when we were having such an interesting conversation, though you did fall asleep, so maybe it wasn’t as interesting to you. And nothing sexual happened last night. I don’t fuck sleeping women. When we do come together, you will be wide awake and begging for me to take you.”

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