"It's my phone," she said frantically.
But Silas, lost in the throes of passion, paid little heed to her protests, his lips trailing a heated path down her bosom. "Ignore it," he murmured.
But Esme couldn't ignore it. She reached to her phone and saw Adelynn's name. "It's Adel. I need to take this call."
But Silas continued kissing her, not bothering about her protests.
"Silas! Please," she pleaded, "Stop for a while."
"God, Esme. You are a mood spoiler." He finally groaned with exasperation, collapsing back onto the bed with a grimace.
"Hello," Esme answered the call.
With a flustered movement, she yanked the blanket up, its coarse weave a flimsy shield against Silas's heated gaze. She could practically feel him burning a hole through the fabric, his earlier frustration morphing into something altogether more primal. In his mind, he imagined ripping the barrier away, claiming her once more.
