Marnie wasn’t sure what woke her—the soft rustling of sheets or the warmth of a hand brushing gently across her cheek. Her eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the filtered light spilling through the curtains.
Doctor Michael was sitting beside her on the bed, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees, studying her with an expression she had never seen on him before.
It wasn’t merely affection.
It was hunger softened by restraint.
A yearning smoothed by love.
A quiet storm, he was trying so hard to hold back for her sake.
For a moment, Marnie forgot to breathe. The room felt too warm, too still, too intimate. He wasn’t even touching her anymore, yet her skin tingled as if he were.
“Good morning,” he said softly, his voice coated in a deep warmth that made her pulse stumble.
“G-good m
