Her nose was pressed up against Alisdair's underarm, her arm was thrown across his wide chest, her leg bent and draped over his hard and muscled thigh. She cocked open one eye, enough to see that her knee rested too close to the juncture of his thighs, to the living reminder that her Scots husband was all male.She drew back slowly, as if afraid to awaken him, but his eyes were open and watching her intently. He said nothing, nor did he move as she slowly slid one long leg from beneath the covers. She would have left the bed then, had she not been naked. She glanced down at herself, wondered when she’d lost the nightgown she’d gone to sleep in, then spied it hanging like a flag of surrender from the one remaining poster of the bed. She frowned at him, but still he made no comment, nor explanation. Nor did he move to free her from the prison of his long and intent stare.He smiled finally, a particularly lupine expression she’d not seen before. His eyes were still dusted with sleep, his hair unruly, the morning stubble made Judith want to reach out and see if the skin of his face was as abrasive as it looked.
