"Relax, you take the bed, I'm not that kind of guy. I'll sleep on the couch," he said, turning his head to point with his chin towards the living room to soothe her worries.
Amelia Garcia sat upright, pursed her lips, and remained silent.
"Do you need help taking off your shoes?" he teased, pretending to bend down.
The woman startled and hurriedly stopped him, "No, I'll do it myself!"
She shuffled and kicked off her shoes, slowly moving her bottom down as she lay back.
Christopher Hart stood beside the bed, looking down at her from above.
Amelia tensed again, clutching the edges of the blanket at her shoulders as if to guard against him pouncing at any moment. Then she pointed a finger toward the couch.
"It's getting late... You must have had a tough few days too. Go get some sleep," she urged.
The man remained still but a smile clearly emerged on his handsome face.
Amelia's heart raced, praying the dim light hid her blushing.