In the quiet of the night, the only sound in the room was a thumping heartbeat, and for a moment, it was impossible to tell whose it was.
Only when the heater had baked the last wisp of moisture from the air did Zane Hawthorne slowly open his eyes, lowering his gaze to cautiously look at the figure in his arms.
After mentally preparing himself, he quietly moved the hand covering her eyes.
He had expected to meet her scrutinizing gaze.
But instead—
He looked down, using the faint light in the room to get a better look. His gaze fell upon her tightly closed eyes. He stared for a good while before finally confirming that she was already asleep.
"…"
Zane Hawthorne let out a soft breath.
He shifted backward, putting some distance between himself and her sweet scent. Finally, he lay flat on his back, staring blankly at the ceiling.
Two minutes later, the restlessness in his body finally subsided, and he quietly got out of bed.
