ISLA
I woke to Gideon sitting on the edge of the bed.
Not the way he had been this morning; relaxed, watching me with that expression I’d caught before he thought I was awake.
This was different. He was dressed. Fully. And when I opened my eyes and found his face, something in my chest went very still.
“What happened?” I asked immediately.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he clarified. “Not an emergency.”
“Then why do you look like that?”
He was quiet for a moment. The kind of quiet that meant he was choosing his words, which was never a good sign from a man who always knew exactly what he wanted to say.
“Dorian is here,” he said. “He needs to speak with you.”
I sat up. “About what?”
“I’d rather he explain it himself.” He met my eyes. “I’ll be in the room. The entire time.”
That was the p
