Isla’s POV
The first thing I felt wasn’t sunlight.
It was warmth. Heavy, slow and thick, soothed my skin like a memory that refused to fade.
My lashes fluttered open, and for a second, I didn’t know where I was. The sheets smelled different, rich, masculine, something faintly smoky. Not the faint floral scent I always used.
Then I realized the shirt clinging to me wasn’t mine.
It hung too loose over my shoulders, sliding down one arm. The cotton was soft and worn, and it carried the same scent that was flooding my lungs.
Zayne.
Oh my God.
I froze. My mind scrambled through memories, his voice, his breath, the wall, the bed. The way he’d said my name like it wasn’t one but a curse.
Not a dream. Definitely not a dream.
Heat spread through me before I could stop it. My heart picked
