There were a lot of pressing things that run around the bastard prince's head.
One, the slave that he was forced to wed, the woman who hated him to the core, had just saved the very same life she had attempted to end – his life. Second, the said woman's hair was strewn all around his face.
Her flaming hair had come undone as she rushed over to him. Locks of silky soft strands found their way inside his mouth and nose, tickling him to the point he was about to sneeze.
He noticed that the scent of her shampoo seemed to have switched to something sweeter – vanilla? If she really did, the prince could only drool.
Aleksander could feel her chest on him, the beat of her heart much louder now that practically there were no space between them. The only thing that separated them being their clothes. Thankfully, there were layers to the fabrics of their garments in the least.
