Page 39 of Golden Burn

My brows furrow. Surely he can’t be talking about me? I’ve never snored in my life. “Ha, ha. Very funny.”

Casually, he grabs his phone from the nightstand. He taps the screen a few times and then a sound—that can only be described as abhorrent and clearly unhealthy snoring—explodes from the speaker. Oh my God. He recorded me!

My eyes widen in horror as he holds it closer to me, as if I couldn’t hear it blasting acrossthe bed.

“Delete that right now!”

Odin shakes his head. “I don’t think so. I’m going to send it to Martise to forward to the rangers. Maybe it will help with the rhino mating program.”

I squeal. “You asshole!” I launch forward and grab a pillow off the bed and toss my weapon at Odin.

He catches it with ease, the veins in his hands wiggling as his fingers dig into the soft material. His upper body barely flexes, and yet, I can’t take my eyes off him. My mouth waters almost instantly. A quiet rumble reverberates from his throat. I freeze on the spot when he brings the pillow down and I catch another glimpse of his barely there smile. It disappears a beat later when his attention fixes on my body. I’m wearing a matching set of pajamas, thin cream cotton, spaghetti straps, hem so short it would make a nun cry. In the right light, it might as well be see-through.

Odin rakes his singular gaze over me and he appears somewhat pleased. “You should get ready. We’re leaving at nine.”

Huffing, I urge my feet to move toward my suitcase, where I grab a change of clothes and practically sprint into the bathroom.

Once dressed in my casual safari ensemble, including matching shoes and hat, I am determined to be cool and civil, not forgetful to breathe whenever he looks at me with that droplet of interest.

Odin is dressed—thank God—and sitting inside by a small dining table for two with a spread of food before him.

The air is stifling; the heat beginning to rise. I head toward the glass doors that open up onto the sun-drenched deck, but they won’t budge when I try to open them. They don’t have a press lock, either; it requires a key. “Why are the doors locked?”

Odin sips his coffee. “For your safety.”

“Where is the key?”

He pats his thigh. I sigh and make my way over to take a seat opposite him, my stomach rumbling with anticipation. I grab the coffee like a starved beast and sip it as I take in the exquisiteness of the morning light streaming through the clear glass to my right. Gingerly, I pick at the fruit and the pastries provided. Odin is busy with his phone. Suddenly, a thought that came to me last night, finds its way to the forefront of my mind.

“So, I wanted to tell you something.” He looks up, and the composure I erected in the shower wobbles. The sunlight is hitting him on the right side of the face, sharpening his jaw, caressing his skin. His hair shimmers an ashy brown. His single eye is the color of a storm covered sky with the moon illuminating it from behind. If I had a camera, I would take a shot of him right now and send it to every magazine in the world. He’s never been so handsome, casual and calm. Even the trees outside brush against the door to get a single touch.

He puts his phone away, giving me his full attention. “You have something to tell me?”

“Yes. I’m—” I have to tear my eyes away and look at something else. My feet, my coffee, a slice of cheese. Yes, cheese will do.

“Lactose intolerant?”

“No—”

“Suffering from sleep apnea? No need to tell me. I’m acutely aware.”

I groan, my intestines in knots. I don’t know why I share what I do next. But Odin’s acceptance of Ford and Dom, his desire to protect them, makes me comfortable enough to speak. “I’m bisexual, in case you didn’t know.” His face remains the same, no surprise or aversion. If anything, he peers deeper at me. “My last relationship was with a woman.Her name was Beth. We dated for ten months, but it ended about a year ago.”

A stretch of silence follows. One in which I sense Odin is trying to figure something out. “Do you… want access to other people?” he asks.

“No,” I say, knocking the table. Odin steady’s it with a firm hold of his hands, while I try to steady myself. “No, that’s not why I was saying it. I just felt inclined to tell you, in case anything came up.”

Rubbing his hand along the short stubble of his jaw, Odin’s expression is contemplative. “I’m not going to trap you for the rest of your life. If you want to be with other women or men, that’s fine.”

My hands tremble in my lap as I try to understand his motives. Surely a man like Odin would despise sharing his wife. “Why would you let me do that?”

“It’s only fair.”

My throat thickens, making it impossible to swallow, or think, or breathe. The haunted shadow that has eclipsed Odin from the day I met him returns, wiping away the easy-going version of him that sat across from me only a minute ago.

Shoulder’s stiff, jaw tight, he stands. “We should go. Martise is waiting.”

Odin and I meet Ford outside the main building. Martise is there, too, dressed in similar attire. Canvas pants, long sleeve cotton shirt and a rounded hat. She pulls it off a million times better than I do.

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