As he bent down to tuck the loose hair behind her ear, Jasmine Yale opened her eyes and clasped her hands around his neck!
She didn't know where the courage came from, but she did it anyway.
Sylvan Cheney's face changed subtly, and his hands immediately braced against the bed as he stared intently at her.
Jasmine Yale, with her arms around his neck, defiant and glaring back at him.
Their gazes locked, and they were so close he could clearly see the shimmer in the depths of her eyes.
Having just recovered from an illness, Jasmine Yale's complexion was somewhat pale, but her eyes shone brightly, showing few signs of sickness.
His familiar scent of Agarwood Fragrance lightly invaded her nostrils.
She didn't let go, just held onto him like that.
"Did you wake up earlier?" Sylvan Cheney seemed to sigh with relief, his tone half helpless, half doting.
"No," Jasmine Yale retorted like a little bunny, "I just woke up."
