The next morning, I awoke to the best surprise possible: Horst was sleeping next to me—not touching, but still, there—in Quentin’s bed. I turned to face him and stared at him. After several minutes I watched him wake up.
At the first quivering of those pale gold eyelashes I felt my heart begin to pound. Then there was the increased breathing, the slight movements of an arm, and finally the opening of those beautiful blue eyes, which, since he was facing me, slowly focused on me.
A slight frown appeared on his brow and he said, “Why are you smiling?”
I didn’t know I was smiling. But now I smiled wider and said, “Can’t I smile if I’ve got a beautiful man next to me in bed?”
He seemed to consider this, but before he said anything, I reached out a hand and tentatively stroked his cheek.
H
