Chapter Twenty-Seven
Fiona woke up, several things hitting her at once—the fact she couldn’t see, or breathe particularly well, and she was boiling hot. As she flung the duvet off, she immediately realised her mistake.
Or her stroke of utter genius, depending on which way you looked at it. Once her brain had helpfully supplied a reminder of what had happened the previous evening, telling her why she’d been hiding beneath the duvet, she took in the sights she’d uncovered with her half-asleep duvet-throwing action.
James and Logan had apparently spent the entire night nestled up beside her, and, probably through some sense of propriety, had chosen to don boxer shorts, rather than sleep naked. She’d have preferred naked, but the view as it was wasn’t half bad. The underwear in question was
