CHAPTER THIRTEEN: PROTECT THE TRUTH

TANYA’S POV

Cracking my eyes, it trailed over Rodrigo’s head, lying against my chest. Yesterday, I’d found him drinking himself into a stupor, and I invited him to get some rest.

All attempts to move proved abortive because his weight practically pinned me down. I decided just to let it go and lie down. I couldn’t help but sniff his hair, and for some reason, it smelt like lavender, making my stomach twitch.

He began to stir awake and stretch. It wasn’t until he fully cracked his eyes open that he sat upright. “What am I doing here?” He asked in a gravelly voice as he rubbed his temples.

“You were mad drunk last night, and I didn’t want to let you sleep on the stool in the wine cellar,” I answered, feeling a little sad that he had to stand just when I was enjoying the moment.

“That explains this migraine,” he muttered, more to himself than to me, as a frown formed on his face. Peeling the blanket off him, he got on his feet.

“I feel like shit,” He complained, a palm on