Page 9 of Forbidden Passion

Chapter 7

Thirty minutes later, Ciara was still staring up at the ceiling. She was exhausted, both mentally and physically, after traveling to Switzerland and doing her speech. But as often happened, as soon as she’d crawled into bed, her mind went into overdrive. Unfortunately, thinking meant that sleep wasn’t going to happen.

Sighing, she rolled onto her side, staring out through the long windows. The snow was still falling, but not as hard as earlier. She could see the lights on the other side of the street now. But the streets were quiet, no cars moving through the city besides the occasional snowplow. This high up, she couldn’t hear anything from down below, but she could see that the streets were impassable.

And that worried her. She’d sat next to Falk all evening and, in her mind, he’d shifted from a devil to…something more interesting. She’d truly enjoyed talking with him, listening to his ideas. And she loved the fact that he’d actually listened to her ideas and was impressed with the way he’d built on her suggestions, expanding to include more ways to help his people.

With a sigh, Ciara slipped out of bed, grabbed her silk robe, and tied it snuggly around her waist. She listened at the door before opening it, wanting to be sure that Falk was no longer in the living room. It was after midnight, so she doubted he would still be awake.

After opening the door, she peered out into the hallway. The coast was clear!

Padding barefoot out into the large living area, she looked around, not sure what she wanted. Normally, she wouldread until her thoughts settled enough to fall asleep. But tonight, she was too restless.

“Can’t sleep either?” a deep voice asked softly.

Ciara jumped and spun around, finding him sitting on the sofa, wreathed in shadows.

Falk stood up and, silently moved over to a shelf. She heard him pour something, then he came towards her. “This might help,” he offered.

Ciara took the proffered drink and sniffed. “Whiskey?”

“It’s an excellent year. There’s just a hint of smoke and an aftertaste of something I can’t quite put my finger on.”

Ciara sighed with relief when he moved back to the sofa and sat down. “Why are you still awake?”

He shrugged and took a sip of his whiskey. “Too many thoughts running through my mind.”

She sat down where she’d been earlier, tucking her robe around her legs. Hopefully, he wouldn’t notice that she wasn’t dressed properly for a conversation with an attractive man.

Not that she considered him attractive. He was. But Ciara didn’t consider Falk to be her type. He was definitely too dictatorial for her taste. In the past, she’d heard him giving orders to his staff instead of asking politely. Plus, he just seemed like the kind who enjoyed telling people what to do.

“Why are you still up?” he asked.

She grinned, grateful that he couldn’t see her smile. “Too many thoughts running through my mind,” she parroted.

He laughed softly, nodding his head. “The night is usually the time when I work through most of the problems. Theday is too busy with meetings and reports. The night is when I have the peace to figure stuff out.”

“Not me,” she replied with a heavy sigh, taking a sip of the whiskey. “It’s the time when I pound on my pillow in frustration.”

“I could resolve that frustration for you,” he offered.

Ciara had just taken a sip of her whiskey, but at his words, she choked.

When she recovered, Ciara glared at him. “That’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t trying to be funny,” he came right back. “I was, again, offering to ease your stress from earlier today.”

Slowly, she shook her head, feeling her hair brush against the back of her neck. In fact, every part of her felt more…alive. Or alert?

“No thanks. I’m not into casual sex.”

He chuckled and she was grateful for the lack of light as her cheeks flamed with heat.

“I was only going to suggest a back rub,” he said, already standing up and coming around the low coffee table.

Panicked, Ciara shifted, lifting her glass out of the way in preparation for standing up. “I don’t…You don’t need to…!”

“Shut up, Ciara,” he growled as he sat down beside her. His weight shifted the cushions and she couldn’t stop from leaning back towards him.

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