Chapter Seventeen
Aurora
Aurora couldn’t sleep. Ironic, considering. She lay on her side, watching Phillip’s chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm. His ruffled hair hung forward into his eyes, and she brushed it away to memorize every inch of him.
She ran a hand down his firm chest, curling her fingers in the soft hairs. She wasn’t trying to wake him. One thing she’d learned about Phillip Basile was he was a heavy sleeper. It would take her hand traveling a lot lower for him to rouse.
Exhaustion weighed down on her, making it hard to breathe. It wasn’t the usual nighttime sleepiness. No, this was La Dame’s magic, the magic Phillip thought he’d freed Aurora from. She hadn’t had the heart to tell him she still felt the ties binding her life.
Slipping from the bed, Aurora walked to the
