Free Surrender to a Stranger by Karyn Monk Page A

sleep,” he grumbled before settling down again.
    “Pardon me,” bit out Jacqueline as she seated herself in the chair. It was hard and extremely uncomfortable. She twisted and turned in it a few times to see if she could find a more restful position. She could not. She curled her legs up onto the chair, but found this left her knees painfully wedged between the supports of the arm. She tried to sit in the chair sideways, with her legs draped over the arm, only to find the hard edge of the other arm digging into her spine. She repositioned herself again, leaned back, folded her arms across her chest, and gritted her teeth, determined that, comfortable or not, she was going to sleep. Within a few minutes her whole body began to quiver. Now that she had stopped moving, she realized the room was unbearably cold. She would have to stumble around in the dark again to find her jacket, which was coarse and filthy and smelled offensive.
    Loud snoring was rising from the mound on the bed. It was quite evident that Citizen Julien, or whoever he was, had not encountered the least bit of difficulty in falling asleep. Despite the fact of his bare shoulders, he was evidently quite comfortable. Of course, he did have the advantage of a sheet and blanket.
    Noiselessly slipping out of her wooden sabots, she crept through the darkness over to the bed. Citizen Julien did not stir, but continued his deep, even snoring. Jacqueline could see that he lay on his side, with one heavy arm casually draped against his waist, pinning the blanket to his body. She reached out hesitantly and grasped hold of the blanket below his arm. Slowly, carefully, she began to ease the woolen fabric down along the length of him, holding the sheet in place with her other hand so he would not waken with the sudden sensation of cold air. She was surprised and pleased to find she could feel his warmth retained in the blanket. Evidently he manufactured a great deal of heat on his own and would probably not miss the blanket at all. She had almost moved it down to his waist when suddenly he rolled over onto his back, made a low, irritated growl, and yanked the blanket back up over his chest. Jacqueline froze, terrified that she had been discovered. But he gave no sign of having awakened. His snores once again became deep and even, and his eyes remained firmly shut. Jacqueline let out a small breath of relief.
    The problem was that now his hand actually gripped the blanket, making it impossible for her to move it without his knowledge. She would have to get him to release his hand before she could proceed. She took a step closer to him and bent down low. With one hand firmly grasping the blanket and her lips positioned just inches away from his ear, she shaped her mouth into a tiny circle and very gently began to blow, a soft, fluttering little breath that made the length of hair lying against his ear begin to dance and tickle him. At first he merely frowned, his eyebrows knitting together in profound irritation. She blew a little harder, and to her delight his hand released the blanket and moved up to scratch the offending ear. Quick as a whip she yanked down the blanket and clutched it to her chest. His tickling problem solved, the stranger sighed and contentedly laid his arm once again on his chest. Barely able to contain her smugness, Jacqueline turned from the bed to wrap herself in her prize.
    Strong hands clamped around her waist with an iron grip, and before she knew what she was about, she was sailing through the air and landed with a thud on the mattress beside him, still clinging to the blanket. The stranger held her down with one hand and looked at her with amusement.
    “There are two lessons you have learned tonight,” he remarked. “The first, never assume your opponent is sleeping, unless you have personally drugged him or knocked him over the head. The second, if it is at all possible, make sure you get a decent night’s sleep.” Still holding her down,