Cecily asked, her voice a low, lazy growl. She didn’t open her eyes, but her fingers, resting on Ian’s arm, lifted to slide forward over his wrist. “Not much. I spend a lot of time just thinking. Still, I’ve slept more here than I ever did before,” he admitted, studying the subtle changes to Cecily’s face as she awoke fully. She laughed quietly, barely more than a huff of air and a smile. “Sleep okay when you did?” “Fine.” He wanted to lift his hand to touch her face and smooth down her hair, but he held still. Her fingers moved and shifted aimlessly over his wrist. “I didn’t wake you up?” she asked self-consciously. “My nightmares and all…” “You had two, but I was able to interrupt them.” He gave in to temptation and moved closer, shifting from his pillow to share hers. “Does it help? Do you feel better today than most mornings?”
