Alexander smiled as he admired the painting his wife had created for him. "I wonder if there's anything my beautiful wife can't do," he mused, his voice filled with warmth. His eyes sparkled as he glanced over at Rain, who was sleeping soundly on the bed.
Her painting was remarkable, especially for someone who wasn't a professional. It didn't depict his face exactly but captured a vague silhouette of his profile. The essence of him was unmistakable, and his heart swelled with pride and admiration for her talent.
He let out a heavy sigh, practically devouring her with his gaze. He gently covered her with a quilt, but the thought of her bare skin beneath it stirred his desire once more.
"I wonder if this is ever normal," he murmured, unaware of the words spilling from his lips. It was impossible to stop thinking about her.
