It hurt—a sharp, instinctive reaction as Van awoke, gripping Winnie's arm so tightly her bones ached. She lost her balance, one knee landing between his legs, her hand braced awkwardly against his chest, barely keeping herself from falling fully into his lap.
"It's you." Van's voice was low as he opened his eyes, his gaze still heavy with the fog of sleep, looking down at her from above. After a moment, he spoke in a deep, husky tone, "What were you trying to do?"
With one hand caught in his grip and her posture awkwardly bent, Winnie straightened her back as best she could. "There's a draft, and I was worried you'd be cold, so I brought you a blanket."
What blanket? The pale ginger cashmere throw had already slipped silently to the floor between them.
Van narrowed his eyes slightly, h
