Page 84 of The Heir's Bargain

Confusion twisted his facial features as he surveyed the room. Was he purposely being ignorant? Did he truly not see the problem?

Groaning, I waved to his belongings sitting beside mine. "Why is your stuff in here?"

"Because—" Then his eyes fell onto the bed. The single bed that occupied the space. "Oh."

"Oh," I repeated, rolling my eyes far back into my head. "Why would they put us in the same room?"

Fynn scratched the back of his head. "Well, we are courting."

"Courting but not married!" I pressed the heels of my palms to the side of my head.

Even though Fynn was right, that wasn't the problem. We were the problem. I couldn't possibly stay in a room with him.

Fynn chuckled. "Dani, it's not a hundred years ago. Times have changed. No one cares if two people bed each other before?—"

My eyes sprung open. "Bed each other? We're not?—"

"Wait," Fynn said, stumbling back and waving his hands. "That's not what I meant."

"Of course you didn't! But now I can't stop thinking that everyone else is thinking we're bedding each other in here. I couldn't possibly bed you. I mean, look at you," I sputtered, pointing at him.

"What about me?" Fynn arched a brow as he leaned against the wall. His arms were crossed over his chest, sleeves rolled up, and the veins running across his forearms were on full display.

By the gods.

Veins simply pumped one's blood. There was nothing attractive about them, and yet. . .

My cheeks flushed as I snapped my gaze up to meet his, and Fynn stared back at me, that smug mouth cocking up.

He was absolutely, positively infuriating.

"You're. . .you!" I finally spat.

"I'm me? Would you rather me be someone else?"

Yes, I wanted to shout. But every part of me inside screamed, no.

I shook my hand in frustration, more annoyed with myself than the situation. "We can't possibly sleep in the same bed together. That's crossing a line, isn't it?"

"We have shared beds before," he said with a shrug.

"When we were children!"

"And what's the big deal?"

I snapped my mouth shut and bit my tongue. How could he not be reacting the same way as me? How could he ask that with a straight face? Was I the one making it a bigger deal than it needed to be?

I twisted my hands together and said, "Nothing. I just. . .I don't like the idea of people thinking we're sleeping together. We're friends, Fynn."

He quirked a brow.

Internally, I screamed.

Why did even that tiny movement send heat rising all the way from my toes to my cheeks?

"Friends who are pretending to court each other," he said.

Sweat dampened my neck, the bottom layer of my curls sticking to my skin.

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