The first thing she felt was the brush of lips against her forehead. The kiss was warm, certain, and lingered just enough to nudge her toward waking.
Celeste's lashes fluttered, and the pale wash of morning spilled through the curtains drawing soft gold across the sheets.
Dominic was already dressed. His dark suit was pressed sharp, and the crisp white of his shirt collar framed the line of his jaw. He smelled faintly of cedar and something cooler, clean, controlled, and unmistakably him.
"You're awake," he murmured. His palm was already cupping the side of her face, with his thumb tracing lazily along her cheekbone as she parted her eyes. "Good. I didn't want to leave without seeing you."
Her voice came out drowsy, still blurred from sleep. "You could've…"
"No," he said, smiling faintly. "Not when I can wake you like this."
