Miranda drifted slowly toward consciousness, cocooned in warmth and comfort, her body heavy with satisfying exhaustion. As her awareness expanded, she sensed eyes watching her, intense and unwavering. She turned her head, eyelids fluttering open to find Nolan studying her with undisguised appreciation.
"You're staring," she whispered, her voice deliciously rough from sleep.
The corner of Nolan's mouth lifted in a half-smile. "You're beautiful when you sleep."
Heat crept up Miranda's neck as she buried her face into the pillow. "That's not fair. I probably look like a disaster." She imagined her hair wild and tangled across the pillowcase.
"You look like mine," he replied simply, reaching out to trace her cheekbone with gentle fingers.
She exhaled softly, leaning into his touch. "I am yours. Sir..."
His eyes darkened at the title, desire flickering in their depths. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a slow, languid kiss that sent tendrils of heat spiraling through her core.
