The bedchamber was dark except for a vertical slit of light in the center of the near wall, but she was facing the wrong way to be looking toward her window in her brother’s house. She began to roll onto her back before she sensed the bulk of his body behind her. Memory flooded her senses then, setting warm rivers aflow in her veins. “Good morning, Adriana.” She held her breath, hoping he would think she still slept, that he would say no more until she brought some order to the chaos of her emotions. “Look at me, sweetheart. I know you are awake.” Slowly, she turned, conscious of her nakedness beneath the coverlet, and his, remembering all she had learned of his body the night before, all that she had let him take from hers. Heavy warmth crept into her cheeks, and she was grateful for the dimness. He would not see her confusion. He was lying on his back, his arms folded back so that his hands cradled his head upon the pillow. She remembered how big his hands were, how gentle they could be, how strong and demanding, and her confusion grew.
