Don stirred, eyes blinking open to the soft, golden pool of light from the bedside lamp.
The estate outside lay wrapped in deep night—manicured gardens stretching into darkness beyond the tall windows, the faint rustle of leaves and distant fountain trickle drifting in through the open balcony doors.
He rose slightly on one elbow, one hand sliding around Samantha's waist to pull her closer while the other cupped her chin with gentle possession.
His thumb traced the soft curve of her lower lip, pressing lightly against the lingering dampness—saliva or perhaps the ghost of a nervous bite she'd given it earlier.
Her breath became a little unsteady, warm and sweetly scented against his skin. "Sweetie…" she murmured, the word soft and trembling with affection.
The silk of her robe whispered sensually against his forearm as he drew her in tighter.
