She was tranquil, breathing deeply. It’d been ten hours since she’d drifted away, and two hours since he had woken. He had watched her sleep, wondering if maybe she hadn’t slept that well in a long time. No lover had ever relaxed so peacefully in his presence. Warmth slid into his veins and his smile felt good. Last night, when he heard of Mary’s pain, his heart reached for her. It was clear from the second she mentioned her husband that his death had devastated her, and even more apparent that she hadn’t completely moved on yet. Though, from her heated reactions to Elliott, he understood that deep down she wanted to, but she simply didn’t know how. With a final look at her, seeing her dark hair curtaining her face, he turned away. He fought the urge to stay right there with her while he entered the living room, finding it empty of last night’s guests, as he expected. Being so late in the morning, Elliott assumed most had gone home, or possibly were in another hotel room.
