She went to sleep early. But sometime in the night, she woke to a strange sensation—not fear, not cold, but something far more unsettling.
The first thing she felt was the scent. Woodsy. Warm. Familiar. A scent that clung stubbornly to one name: Marcus.
Then came the heat of his body, pressed against her back. His strong arm resting around her waist. His steady breath brushing the nape of her neck.
Nicoletta froze.
He was here. Right behind her. Holding her in his sleep as if he couldn’t bear to let her go—not even for a moment.
His grip was firm but not harsh. And against her will, something inside her tightened… not from fear, but from the tenderness of it. Tenderness she didn’t want from him. Tenderness that was dangerous.
Slowly, carefully, she turned her head toward him, trying
