//CLARA//
I woke to warmth.
Not to the suffocating weight of too many blankets, but to the heavy arm wrapped around my waist possessively, and doing things to my pulse that my yoga instructor would call unhealthy attachment.
I turned my head slowly, afraid the movement would break whatever spell had kept him in my bed past dawn. He was already awake, watching me, his eyes unguarded in a way I had never seen. No mask and no calculation, just him looking at me like I was something precious.
If I had my phone right now, I would have taken a picture of him and made it my wallpaper.
God, that sounded so cringe.
"You stayed," I whispered.
"I did."
"I thought you would slip out before first light. Isn't that the rule? Gentlemen do not get caught in ladies' bedchambers."
One corner of his mouth tilted up. "I am not a gentleman, and you are not a lady."
"Ouch, that hurts." I retorted, though I leaned into his hand as he traced my jaw. "I'm wounded. Truly."
