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suites—and she was glad to have something else to look at.
    “I’ll sleep on the floor,” he said as he dumped his satchel and the crutches on one of the formal wing chairs that sat in front of a Victorian-looking fireplace with an exquisite decorative mantel.
    Addie looked at the floor. It was covered in rich rugs concealing most of the aged uneven stonework. “You can’t sleep on the floor,” she protested. “You’re injured.”
    “I’ll be fine.”
    “No,” she insisted.
    He quirked his brow. “Are you offering?”
    Addie snorted. “After four months of my life sleeping on a hospital bed they could have used in a torture chamber, and a couple of years in a sleeping bag in the back of a Kombi, I made a vow to never sleep on anything other than a nice, thick mattress ever again.” She folded her arms as she prepared to throw her proposition out there. “We can share.”
    She held her breath, wishing she could tell what the hell was going on behind those fathomless blue eyes.
    “No.”
    She stared him down, her pulse pounding. “It makes sense, Nate.”
    It was satisfying to see a little pulse jerking at the angle of his jaw. “It’s Nathaniel,” he said, his voice all gravelly.
    Addie shrugged because the man was too used to getting his own way and she was damned if she was going to be one of his yes-women. Especially if they were going to share a bed. The more pissed off he was, the greater the distance he’d keep.
    “I kind of like Nate. It suits you. Plus, if we’re sharing a bed”—a smile played on her mouth—“we should be less formal.”
    He shoved a hand on his hip and Addie noticed how it exposed his abdomen to her gaze. Even encased in fabric, she could tell his belly was flat. It probably had those fascinating dips where his abdominals met his hip bones.
    She’d always been a sucker for those.
    “There will be no sharing, Adelaide .”
    Addie rolled her eyes. “Methinks you doth protest too much.” She tossed her hair. “We’re both adults, Nate. I’m sure we can control ourselves.”
    He folded his arms and leaned his butt against the back of the chair. “Do you have any idea what happens to an adult man around five o’clock in the morning?”
    Addie swallowed at the silky inquiry. His voice seemed to have dropped some more as she became entranced with his long fingers drumming against his bicep.
    “While the rest of the world sleeps, a certain part of our anatomy is very, very awake. And it’s really not that picky at that time of the morning, either. In fact, it’s probably going to consider a warm, sleepy woman, no matter how crazy she is , fair game. Are you prepared for that? Because I’m almost thirty-five years old and I’ve never been able to control my early morning wakeup call.”
    Addie felt skewered to the spot by the scenario he just painted. Him and her. A set of snowy white sheets. Some morning glory. She glanced at the bed, a vision of him tumbling her over and over in it clouding the issue.
    She looked back at him primly. “I’m assuming you can control what you do with it.”
    His gaze didn’t waver as his fingers stopped their drumming. “But what if I don’t want to?”
    She swallowed. Good question. Which raised another—what if she didn’t want him to? “We’ll put some pillows down the middle.”
    Nathaniel quirked an eyebrow. “How very Victorian.”
    Addie glanced around at the antique furnishings. “I think it’s the room,” she murmured.
    “Look,” he said checking his watch. “How about we decide later? We can’t keep those two waiting down there by themselves for too much longer. God alone knows what they’ll think if we don’t make an appearance soon.”
    Addie gave a half smile. “Isn’t that what you want?”
    He shook his head emphatically. “Not if they’re already planning the wedding.”
    …
    Addie spent an enjoyable three hours traipsing around the farm in an old Jeep driven by Eunice who had obviously missed