Isabella did not scream.
The sound rose to her throat, sharp and ready, but something held it back. Maybe it was the warmth of the arm around her waist, or the steady rise and fall of the chest behind her, or the quiet realization that whoever it was did not feel like a stranger.
Still, her body was tense.
Her fingers slowly tightened against the bedsheet as her mind raced through every possible explanation, none of them making complete sense.
She swallowed carefully.
Then, with a kind of courage she did not know where it came from, she moved.
Very slowly.
Careful not to startle the person behind her.
Her hand reached for the arm around her waist, her fingers brushing against it lightly, testing, confirming that it was real and not some extension of her dream.
Warm.
Solid.
She d
