SAMANTHA POV I woke up slowly. It wasn't the usual "panic-snap" awake where my brain immediately inventories every threat in a five-mile radius. There was no "where-am-I-who’s-trying-to-kill-me" internal alarm. Instead, there was just… awareness. Soft, high-thread-count sheets. A heavy, humming warmth in the air. The faint, rhythmic vibration of the city waking up beyond the hotel glass. And beneath it all, an unfamiliar, liquid heaviness low in my stomach that had nothing to do with hunger and everything to do with the man in the next room. I opened my eyes. The room was flooded with pale morning light, filtered through sheer curtains into something soft and ethereal. For a long minute, I didn't move. I just breathed. And then, like a tidal wave, the memories of the night before came crashing back. The bath. The total system failure of my brain. Lucien’s arms—strong, cool, and terrifyingly steady—lifting me out of the water. Oh, God. I sat up too fast, the silk sheets
Last Updated : 2025-12-21
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