Romance Rules for Werewolves (Charming Cove, #3)(60)

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“Fine. Just thinking about everything to do at your house.”

That might be true, but that wasn’t all there was to it. He’d thought about the house plenty in front of me and never looked like that.

“Are you annoyed we’re going to Wales?”

“No, it’s fine.”

Huh. That was a seriously short tone of voice. Something was up with him.

I debated trying to prod it out of him, but we were trapped in the car for another four hours. What if I made a total mess of things? It would be awkward as hell—even more awkward than it was now.

And he was the one driving. He could turn the car around and take us back to Cornwall.

Yeah, it was a bad idea to poke him. I’d let him stew for a while, then maybe ask when we arrived.

“I’m going to take a nap.” I curled toward the window. “Thank you for driving.”

He just grunted, and I rolled my eyes.

I woke up when we were deep into Wales. According to the clock, we only had about thirty minutes left. The headlights cut through the darkness. I squinted out the window but was unable to see anything.

“We’re close, right?” I asked.

“We are. Nearly to the B&B.”

“Great.” I pulled a sandwich out of the bag I’d packed and passed it to him, then took one for myself.

We ate in silence, then polished off our meal with an apple each. By the time we arrived at the pretty white B&B on the outskirts of the village of Llanmarthen, I was beyond ready to get out of the car. Rafe still hadn’t spoken.

He pulled the car to a stop in the pebble drive in front of the rambling old house, and I climbed out. The innkeeper came to the porch as I carried my small bag up, a smile on her round face.

“Hello, there! I assume you’re the Whitwells? You’re my last guests for the night.”

“Yes.” I nodded. “Thank you for having us on such short notice.”

“Well, of course! A full B&B is a happy B&B, and I was glad to give away the last room.”

Last room?

Had that been singular?

I shot a glance at Rafe, who had also clearly clocked the tense.

“Let me show you inside.” She gestured for us to follow her into the prettily decorated entryway. Pale pink wallpaper covered the walls, and the dark wood floor gleamed. “This way, up the stairs.”

She chattered away about the breakfast schedule and options while leading us down the hall to a room at the end. When we arrived, she pushed open the door to reveal a small room with one double bed. “And here it is!”

“Thank you,” I said, craning my neck to see if there was perhaps another door to a separate room. “Where is the second room?”

“Second room?” She frowned. “You booked one, dear.”

“I booked two, I think.” I smiled, not wanting to annoy her. This was a tiny town, and her B&B had been the only one with a vacancy.

“Sorry, love. One is all I have.”

“Oh, okay.” My mind scrambled. We couldn’t sleep in the car, and it was too late to go anywhere else.

“Remember, breakfast starts at seven,” she said before leaving and shutting the door behind her.

I looked at Rafe, who stared at me with an incredulous expression on his face. “One room?”

“Seems that way.” I walked in and put my bag on the chair by the little hearth.

“I’ll sleep in the car,” he said.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I turned to see that he hadn’t entered the room yet. He still stood in the doorway, looking awkward as hell.

“There’s only one bed, Isobel.”

“And?”

“It’s one bed.” He said the words like I should understand what he meant.

“I know.”

“You can’t possibly expect me to put up with that?”

Offended, I gasped. “Are you seriously saying you can’t bear to sleep next to me? That it would be torture?”

“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Ugh.” I crossed my arms. “I thought we were getting along.”

“We are.”

“Then why?” I gestured to the bed. “It’s just one night. We’ll put a wall of pillows between us.”

“That’s not going to cut it.”

I rolled my eyes. “I can’t believe you’re so prudish.”

“Prudish?” He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You won’t share a bed with a friend who’s a woman. I call that the definition of prudish.”

Something unrecognizable flashed on his face, and he stalked toward me, dropping his bag at his feet and looming over me. The heat in his gaze made me draw in a breath. “You think it’s prudishness that’s keeping me from that bed?”

“Or the fact that you’ve been in a miserable mood all night, yes.”

A low growl escaped him. “I watched those damned builders flirt with you all afternoon, and I watched you flirt back. Which is your right, of course. But Isobel, I’m not made of steel.”

The breath rushed out of me. “You were jealous?”

The air around him vibrated. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you, Isobel. You’re perfection. So yes, I was jealous.”