Evelyn Sherman pouted, her little face nuzzling into the cradle of his chest out of habit.
Her little head rested on his chest, sending her into an even deeper sleep.
After who knows how long, the sleeping figure stirred slightly.
She felt an indescribable weakness all over, her brow furrowed as she strained to sit up only to realize she was being held in someone's arms.
Turning her head, she was met with an unexpectedly disgruntled handsome face, which caused her to stare wonder-struck.
Was she hallucinating?
Why did she think she was seeing Chester Yale?
But it was still daylight outside, how could he be at the villa at this time, holding her as he slept?
Evelyn blinked her eyes, looked again, he was still there...
His dark eyes were shut, his long black eyelashes rested on his eyelids, devoid of their usual sharpness.
His angular handsome face appeared much softer in sleep.
How long has it been since she last observed him this closely?
