Allyson's POV
My eyes fluttered open to an overwhelming wave of exhaustion that seemed to seep into every muscle. The soreness throughout my body served as a delicious reminder of how thoroughly Michael had claimed me. I blinked several times, disoriented as I took in the unfamiliar surroundings of his office.
Propping myself up on trembling elbows, I caught sight of Michael positioned at the mahogany desk near the floor-to-ceiling windows. His broad shoulders were perfectly straight as he focused intently on whatever occupied his laptop screen. Even in concentration, he commanded attention with that devastating handsomeness that never failed to steal my breath.
My gaze wandered to the massive antique clock mounted on the opposite wall.
Six thirty.
The realization hit me like ice water.
How had I allowed myself to sleep away the entire afternoon?
Terror clawed at my chest.
"Michael..." The word scraped past my parched throat, barely audible.
