Miranda woke to the gentle sensation of Nolan's fingers tracing lazy patterns on her bare shoulder. For a brief, blissful moment, she allowed herself to melt into the comfort of his warmth, savoring how his breath tickled her neck. Then reality slammed into her consciousness. She couldn't linger here in this peaceful bubble.
Last night's dinner. Connor's appearance. Collins's devastating secret weighing on her conscience.
"Morning," Nolan murmured, his voice husky with sleep.
"Hey." She attempted to slide out of bed, but his arm tightened possessively around her waist.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"Shower. We need to get ready for work."
"We also need to have that conversation I promised you."
His voice had shed its sleepy quality, replaced by a tone that meant serious business. Dangerous business.
