“Meet you out there,” Samson said, easily. “No checking on Alana when you go upstairs — she’s fine, and you’ll wake her up.”
“I’m making no promises.” Sophie cast an eye over the monitor as she got up to leave the room; her niece was still asleep.
“I tell you what.” Samson caught her gently by the arm before she went through the door. “Put this on. It’ll save you the trip upstairs, and prevent you from being tempted to prod Alana awake to check she’s all right.”
He grabbed a hooded sweatshirt of his which had been draped over the back of a kitchen chair.
Before she could protest, he said, “Arms up.” She obeyed instinctively, lifting her arms high as he slipped the top over her head and pulled it down into place. The intense smell of him was almost more than Sophie could bear, making her feel giddy as it surrounded her, and she did her very best to act normally.
“There we go,” he said. “All toasty now.”
Their eyes met. Sophie felt she should turn away, but she found she didn’t want to.
His hands were still on the bottom of the hoodie from when he’d been pulling it into place.
They were both locked in position, gazing at each other. Samson reached his arm up and gently lifted Sophie’s hair out from where it was caught inside the hoodie, tucking it behind her ears. His eyes never left hers.
Sophie’s whole body was tense and alert, anticipating what was going to happen, as Samson’s hand slowly moved round so he was cupping the back of her neck. He stopped and raised an eyebrow questioningly. Sophie responded by tilting up her head ready to meet his lips and suddenly they were kissing, and nothing else mattered.
Chapter 11
Sophie woke up in Samson’s bed the next morning. The clock in the corner told her it was quarter past seven; Alana would be awake soon.
Remembering the night before brought a smile to her face. Samson had lived up to her every fantasy. Leading her upstairs to his room, he’d made love to her, making her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. The chemistry and attraction she’d been feeling hadn’t been wrong — they were so very good together.
Afterwards, he had got up, and she wondered if he wanted her to leave and sleep in her own bedroom, but he’d said, “I’m going to get some water and let Mutt out. I’ll be back in five.”
Sophie had used the opportunity to take a quick peep at Alana and was pleased her breathing sounded absolutely fine. Then she’d climbed back into Samson’s bed, eager for him to return. He hadn’t been long and had spooned around her, whispering, ‘Good night’ into her neck. She still couldn’t believe it had happened.
Now Samson was fast asleep on the other side of the bed. Sophie watched his chest gently moving up and down, and resisted the urge to stroke his beautiful hair off his face, not wanting to disturb him. She decided to get up so she could at least wash and put some make-up on before facing him. Sophie slipped out of the bed and padded along the hallway to the bathroom and showered. Then she went into her bedroom, blow-dried her hair and fussed around deciding what to wear before getting dressed.
She was finishing when she heard Samson go into Alana’s room. She went to join him, nervous butterflies bouncing about inside her.
Samson was talking to Alana and changing her nappy. “Good morning, you two,” Sophie said.
“Morning,” Samson replied, not meeting her eyes. “Could you get Alana’s bottle on? We’ll be down in a minute.”
“Sure.” Sophie was hurt and disappointed by Samson’s demeanour, but hoped she was being oversensitive. Perhaps he was concentrating on changing Alana or was anxious himself about what her feelings would be regarding the previous night.
She prepared Alana’s bottle and began to make coffee. Samson and Alana came into the kitchen. Alana reached out for her aunt and Samson passed the baby over to her, still managing not to look directly at her.
“Coffee’s nearly ready,” Sophie said, overly cheerfully.
“Thanks, but I think I’ll hop in the shower first. Are you OK to give Alana her milk?”
“Yeah, enjoy your shower!” Sophie said as breezily as she could.
Alone with her niece, Sophie pondered what to do — was she worrying too much? Maybe Samson had a bit of a headache from the wine the night before? His being a little offhand with her didn’t have to mean he regretted what had happened between them. He’d probably be back to normal with her when he came back downstairs.
But Samson didn’t return. She heard the shower going and then stop, and a few minutes later the bathroom door opened. Sophie finished giving Alana a bottle and then made some porridge, which she fed her while she ate her own breakfast.
Eventually, Sophie gave up waiting for him. She reheated his coffee in the microwave while she cleaned Alana up, and decided to take his drink to him.
She checked Samson’s bedroom first, but the door was open and he wasn’t in there, so he must be in the study, the door of which was firmly shut.
Sophie knocked as best as she could while carrying a wiggly Alana and a full mug of hot liquid. “Come in,” came the response after a pause.
She pushed open the door. Samson was working on his laptop and didn’t glance up as she came in.