Page 148 of Unleashed

She smiled warmly at me, heading for the door. "Feel better, sweetheart. I’ll bring your soup and tea in fifteen minutes."

"Thanks, Sally. You spoil me."

"Take it easy," she said before slipping out, leaving me alone again.

I huddled back under the covers, hoping the nausea would pass. But just as I began to drift, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. With a sigh, I answered it, bracing myself.

“Michael, I’m fine,” I said before he could speak.

"Where the hell is this place you’re staying at?" His voice crackled through the line, the unmistakable hum of the road in the background.

I sat up straighter. "Are you driving up here?"

"I’m already here," he growled. "Never mind, I see the sign."

I clenched my jaw, frustration bubbling. "Why would you come all the way up here?"

"Because I’m worried about you," he snapped, his tone softening slightly. "I don’t want you to be alone."

"I chose to be alone, Michael. I need space to think."

"You’ve had four days to think," he said, exasperation clear. "I can’t stay away any longer. Which room are you in, Miss Kincaid? Because I’m here."

I threw the blankets aside, sliding out of bed with a groan. Of course he is. I peered through the frosty window, and there he was—Michael, pulling a duffel bag from the back of a dark SUV, his phone still pressed to his ear.

“Morgan?” he called, as if he wasn’t standing right outside.

"Look up," I said dryly, tapping on the glass.

Michael glanced up, a relieved smile tugging at his lips when he saw me waving. He was bundled up in a red down coat, heavy boots, and jeans, the snow sticking to his hair like a dusting ofpowdered sugar. He brushed it off with one hand and jogged up the porch steps.

I opened the door just as he reached it, and he stepped inside, bringing a burst of cold air with him. He dropped his duffel on the floor, pulling off his gloves as he looked me over.

“Planning on staying?” I asked, crossing my arms.

"Damn right I am." He closed the distance between us in one smooth motion, cupping my cheeks with his warm hands and pressing a soft kiss to my lips.

I sighed, resting my forehead against his. "Michael, I wish you’d stayed put."

He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes. "I wish you’d make a decision already."

"I’m not sure it was a smart idea to kiss me," I said, pulling away with a grimace. "I think I have a stomach bug."

Michael smirked, unbothered. "Then we’ll be sick together."

He shrugged off his coat and boots, scanning the room. "This place is cozy. Bed looks comfortable."

"It is," I admitted. "Sally’s bringing me some soup and tea."

He unzipped his duffel, pulling out black sweatpants and a red long-sleeved shirt. Without hesitation, he began undressing, stripping down to his boxers, his muscles flexing with each movement.

I didn’t realize I was staring until he glanced over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "It’s rude to stare, you know."

"I—I’m sorry," I stammered, feeling my face flush.

He grinned, pulling the sweatpants on. "Don’t be. At least I know you’re still attracted to me."

I let out a nervous laugh. "That’s not even a question. I’m very attracted to you."

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