A Wife For Seven Days
The warmth of his bare chest brushed her skin as he shifted slightly, giving her the choice to turn, or else he would force it.
His body, unclothed beneath the sheets, radiated heat that seeped into her bones, comforting and overwhelming all at once.
Yet his eyes were still closed. It was like his reflexes were acting too forward.
Tatiana’s gaze lingered on the perfection of his features. Every line of his face looked sculpted, strong yet softened in sleep. He was like a baby who knew no pain in this world—too innocent to look upon.
She gazed at him as though he were a masterpiece come alive, lying within arm’s reach.
Bab Populer