Angela hadn't slept for even an hour before she stirred awake, realizing she was still draped over Zayden, his arms coiled around her in a possessive embrace. She could feel the soft, rhythmic motion beneath them; the carriage was still rumbling down the road. Was Kyrilia truly that far away?
"Awake, are we?" his voice murmured, low and husky, rekindling her memories of how those very lips had whispered the most wicked promises before bringing her to a blissful crescendo. The things he did with those hands of his—criminal, really.
"We're still traveling?" she asked, straightening slightly, her hands braced on his shoulders to better see him.
"Mm." He nodded, his gaze locking with hers—his amethyst eyes intense, almost smoldering against the oceanic depths of her own.
