Blanche's POV
Vincent swept me up and spun me around, refusing to stop no matter how dizzy I got.
My head whirled—I was about to lose it completely.
I smacked his shoulder. "Vincent, cut it out. I'm gonna be sick."
That got his attention. He stopped spinning immediately.
When he tried to set me down, he stumbled, and we both crashed onto the bed—him practically on top of me.
He's built like a wall, but Vincent caught himself with his hands on either side of me, making sure I didn't get crushed under his weight.
Still, his body pressed against mine—his face inches away, his chest against me, and something unmistakably hard pressed close, making the air between us electric.
I wore nothing but a thin silk nightgown.
The faint scent of my body wash hung in the air, and my hair spread across the pillow. The movement made the nightgown cling to every curve, outlining my body in the dim light.
