Giselle averted her gaze, refusing to look at Henry.
She had braced herself for him not to let her go so easily, yet to her surprise, a soothing silence enveloped them, punctuated only by their shared breathing.
Turning her head, she never expected to see him... asleep!
Henry lay in deep slumber, his eyes tightly closed and eyebrows slightly furrowed. His usually daunting demeanor now resembled an eagle at rest in its nest, its formidable wings quietly folded.
Unexpectedly, a pang of sympathy welled up within her.
She slapped her own face, thinking she must be losing it. How could she feel sorry for him?
This man did nothing but threaten and force her. What was there to pity?
As this thought crossed her mind, she decided to quietly slip out of bed. But as she moved, an arm suddenly
