The next morning, Cristiano woke with a low groan, realizing his right shoulder and arm had gone numb. Blinking his eyes open in irritation, he found the reason: Siena’s beautiful face nestled against him, her head resting on his shoulder as if it were her personal pillow, her body curled into him as if he were her comforter.
His annoyance melted instantly, replaced by the memories from last night. But as they came rushing back, a grimace pulled at his lips. What the hell had he done? What had he said under the influence of alcohol? He had never lost control while drunk—not once. So what had gotten into him last night?
In truth, he didn’t want to accept that what he had said and done was his heart’s true desire. But he didn’t want to admit it. He just wanted to deny those feelings Siena
