Where is she?
It's so warm here…
Just like when he used to hold her close…
But how could that ever have been possible?
He was nothing if not cold and unfeeling—how could he offer such a gentle, tender embrace?
Damn… that rotten bastard…
That despicable scoundrel… she loathed him with every fiber of her being!
In a dreamlike haze, her heavy eyelids slowly fluttered open. The familiar, handsome face emerged through the half-light—a face from memory she hardly dared believe. She tried to lift her head to see him clearly but found herself utterly drained of strength.
Kingsly Scott sensed a slight movement as Rachel Foster shifted in his arms. Lowering his gaze, his broad, steady form pressed against her cheek as his husky, gentle voice murmured,
"You're awake..."
This wasn't a dream.
