She pulled the covers up under her chin and glanced at the French door, expecting to see a flash of lightning. She’d never liked storms much, and being in a big old house right on the water made her like them even less. Having Easton there was a comfort, though. She closed her eyes and imagined his hard body next to her with his lips burning a trail of desire across her skin. As she drifted off to sleep, he remained in her thoughts, and her dreams were filled with images of him making love to her. His hands slid across her stomach, then down to her hips, where his gentle massage sent currents of desire rippling through her. A clap of thunder exploded over head. She shot up in bed, no longer asleep but not yet fully awake either—in that twilight state of somewhere in between. She thought she heard a knock on her door but couldn’t be sure. Maybe it was the thunder, or maybe she was still dreaming. However, when she heard it a second time and louder, she threw back the covers and climbed out of bed.
