She stretched in the bed, looked at the clock and was amazed that it was barely past seven. She would have sworn she’d slept for hours. She was so relaxed, so deliciously sated, that she’d slept like a baby. Unfortunately, a genuine sensation of emptiness began to make her feel rather melancholy. Emptiness from knowing that she hadn’t done a thing for Ryan’s desire, and from knowing how desperately she wanted to. Last night shouldn’t have happened. She knew that now; she’d known it then. She’d wanted to be with him, any way she could, and that had hurt him so much that he hadn’t wanted to see her again. How could she have let things go so far? More than that, how would she keep them from going that far again when she saw him? And she would see him. She had to, because she had to help him cross. There was no way she could live with herself if Ryan Chappelle was stuck in the middle forever because she didn’t do her job. Like most spirits, he was afraid of the unknown.
