The early morning light penetrated from the window to the cold room.
Moira’s eyes fluttered open slowly, her sight adjusting to the light.
She blinked, confused at first, her senses still disoriented from the strange and overwhelming night. Then, as her eyes fully adjusted, the realization hit her. She was lying in a bed — Leander’s bed — and worse yet, she was tangled in his arms. Her body was pressed against his side, her head resting on his chest.
For a long moment, she couldn’t move as her heart pounded in her chest. His cold body felt oddly comforting.
Leander’s eyes were already open, watching her with that predatory gaze.
Her body tensed as she shifted away from him, instinctively trying to put some space between them. Leander did not let go, though. His arm was like a vise,
