The Agreement (Darkest Lies Trilogy Book 1) Bethany-Kris (best fiction novels of all time .TXT) 📖

bedspread. He pulled her against him, wrapping his arms tight around her. She seemed content to lay like that, her back tucked tight along his chest. There was no hiding the racing beats of his heart.

She had to feel every single one.

Karine didn’t say a thing.

Burying his face into her hair, he breathed in the scent of her. He wasn’t the type to fall asleep with a woman in his arms, but he didn’t want to let her go, either. At least, not yet.

Wasn’t he supposed to get information out of her?

Hadn’t he done this for a reason?

Yeah.

The thing was, Roman could already feel her muscles loosening with every steady, deep breath she took. She was drifting off to sleep right there in his arms, every soft curve of hers molded to each of his hard lines.

“This feels like a mistake—there’s no going back from here,” he murmured, hoping Karine would still hear him.

She didn’t.

She was already asleep.

NINETEEN

It wasn’t often that Karine woke up from a dreamless sleep—when she knew her consciousness was returning. It lapped softly against the edges of her brain, but no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t remember if she’d dreamt through the night. She must have had one. Usually dark, and depressing, they left her with a bad feeling when she woke up.

Not something she could explain.

Something that just ... was.

She was rarely able to make sense of the dreams when she had them, and almost always, they involved a little girl whose face she couldn’t remember. A hazy, distorted image that wasn’t at all right. But the voice of the little girl always sounded like her.

Like Karine.

Karine blinked fully awake, faced with the dark ceiling above her. The moonlight—so bright only a few hours ago when she fell asleep—had now faded. And the darkness wasn’t so dark anymore, either.

For a moment, she was ignorant. Lost in the space between sleep and waking, waiting for it all to come back like it sometimes did. She couldn’t remember where she was, if she was alone, or even what happened the previous night—but then it came rushing back to her. All at once.

Roman.

The willow tree.

She was daring enough to invite him to her room. The memories flooded in one after another. His hands on the veranda’s railing, and the way his athletic, muscular body had easily swung over to land right in front of the curtains where she could see him through the sheer, billowing fabric.

Then, his mouth was all over her. That kiss—explosive, and overwhelming. Above all, it was the thing she remembered the most. It came back fast, and easy. She could still feel his lips devouring hers, even.

Karine had reached for him again, long after they had finished, but she couldn’t remember actually falling asleep.

Feeling around her sheets in the dark, she already knew he wasn’t there with her. Touching Roman had instigated a very specific warmth inside her—a sense of safety. Something she no longer had because the bed was cold.

On the bedside table, the small digital clock showcased numbers that read three-thirty-one.

In the morning?

Karine blinked at the time.

Rubbing her eyes with her knuckles, she tried to push out what remained of the sleep. Even though she couldn’t have slept very long, she was still well-rested. Like she had been sleeping for days.

Given the state of her life lately, that wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility.

Yet, she wondered ...

Was it Roman—had it been his presence that let her sleep so well?

Movement in the doorway had Karine raising up to her elbows to see the figure standing at the bedroom door. A light had been switched on in the hallway, allowing a wash of color to spill over his wide shoulders, casting him in a dark silhouette. She couldn’t actually see his face, but she knew it was Roman all the same.

Felt it in her soul.

He was naked but for his underwear. Karine, stretched out on the bed and covered flimsily by a sheet, shifted a bit to soothe the distinctive ache that settled between her legs. And the tingle spreading outward from her belly. Just his presence was enough to invoke a reaction she had never experienced for a man before.

Roman had taken her in a way that made her want more—she bet he knew exactly what to do to keep her wanting it, too.

She opened her mouth to ask him to return to bed, his name already on her lips, but he took one step in her direction and she fell silent.

What happened?

“What the fuck is this, Karine?” he growled.

Suspicion coated his every word, before she even had a chance to look into his eyes. There was so little light around them, and since she had no idea what he was talking about, she reached for the bedside lamp and flicked it on.

Roman came to stand at the foot of the bed with his bare feet planted wide apart. His shoulders, and every muscle of his body, seemed coiled and clenched. Ready to spring at any moment—another sign of his anger that she didn’t understand.

It was the item in his hand that had her straightening higher in bed, pulling the sheet up around her to keep her breasts covered.

“What is it?” she asked, confused.

“That’s what I’m asking you. What is this? What is it doing here, Karine?”

She eyed the item he held warily. “A notebook?”

“It’s a sketchbook.”

That accusatory tone of his felt like a slap, especially when she didn’t have the first clue why he was leveling it on her. What did a fucking sketchbook have anything to do with what happened last night, and why she woke up at three in the morning to find him gone from her bed.

Hell.

Karine should be the one asking questions. “I don’t know. Where did you find it? I haven’t seen it before.”

Instead of answering her, he started flipping through the pages of the sketchbook. She couldn’t see whatever was inside from where she still caught a few glimpses of