In a Fix by Linda Grimes

Author:Linda Grimes [Grimes, Linda]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance, Fantasy, Adult
ISBN: 9780765331809
Google: 9KiI7yp5hm8C
Amazon: 0765331802
Barnesnoble: 0765331802
Goodreads: 11996192
Publisher: Tor Books
Published: 2012-09-04T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

It was a tug-of-war, and I was pulling for all I was worth. My fingers ached with the effort of holding on, but it was no good. I was losing.

“Come on, Ciel. It’s time to wake up. Don’t make me get the ice.”

Damn. I let go of the covers—unwillingly—and pried one eye open. Squinted up at Billy. Oh, yeah. I was no longer Mina. I was me. And Billy was himself, too. Black jeans, black T-shirt, black eyelashes surrounding his inky blue eyes. Why did he always have to flaunt his eyelashes at me?

“Go away. You said I had an hour.” I reached behind me for the pillow and pulled it over my head.

“That was six hours ago. Sorry, but that’s all you get. We really have to move now.”

I pushed the pillow down to my waist. “I was out that long? Ugh. It feels like minutes.”

“Yeah, well, exhaustion will do that to you. Not to mention the residual effects of whatever little drug cocktail the Vikings gave you.” He snagged my arm and pulled me to a sitting position. “Up you go. Time to get dressed.” He reached for the belt of the robe I was still mostly wearing and started to undo it.

I slapped his hand away. “Hey, naked under there! Please.”

“Okay, here’s the deal. Your clothes are on the bed beside you. I’ll turn my back while you change. If you don’t accomplish that in two minutes, I’m doing it for you, modesty be damned. Starting … now.”

Yawning, I contemplated my situation. I was normally a fast dresser. Two minutes meant I could technically sneak in another forty-five seconds of sleep.

“One minute, thirty seconds left.”

Crap. Somebody was speeding up time. It wasn’t fair. Still sitting, I dropped the robe from my shoulders and reached for the bra and panties Billy had provided, wondering briefly where they had come from but not awake enough to be overly curious. I was too used to him just happening to have whatever was needed at any given time. He’d always had a knack for procurement.

The bra went on first—a lacy little pink number with good support. Not that my boobs needed a lot of support, except for maybe the moral variety. Still, this scrap of skimpiness actually made me look like a girl. I should let Billy do all my lingerie shopping. “Hey, how’d you know my bra size?”

“I took a champagne glass with me. One minute.”

Oh yeah. Right. No comment.

Next, I slipped into the panties, which matched the bra in both laciness and skimpiness, with both legs at once, rolling backward to bring them over my hips. Same routine with the jeans, which were too long—I was used to that with jeans—but fit well enough otherwise. I automatically double-folded the leg bottoms into neat cuffs, and then went for the zipper.

“Forty-five seconds.”

“Button fly? You got me button fly? Hey, I should get extra time for that!”

“Thirty.”

I fumbled with the fastenings, my fingers tripping over themselves. “No freaking fair,” I mumbled.

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