Fiona’s POV
The shouting woke me up.
Deep, furious shouting.
I stared at the massive ceiling. Where was I? Then I remembered the scent of warm cedar and I felt Ragnar's familiar weight wrapped around me, and my memories all came rushing back.
His arms around me. His warmth. The way Ragnar held me last night without saying a word — like I was something fragile, something worth protecting.
I sat up so fast that I almost got whiplash.
What the hell was I still doing here?!
I glanced down, heart hammering, realizing I was still wearing Ragnar’s oversized shirt — the same one he had given me after I fell asleep on him like a complete i***t. My legs were tangled in his silky sheets, and the spot where he had been lying was cold.
Panic bubbled in my chest.
I needed to leave. Now.
I swu
