Elara groaned, feeling an unbearable headache pressing against her skull. Her body ached, as if she had run a marathon, climbed a mountain, and wrestled a beast all in one night.
She blinked, her vision blurry, trying to make sense of where she was. The scent of fresh linen and something distinctly masculine filled her senses.
Wait.
Her sluggish brain tried to process her surroundings.
The large, unfamiliar bed, the navy-blue sheets, the neatly arranged bookshelves, and, her heart nearly stopped, the man sitting casually on the chair across from her, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Good morning, Miss El," Lawrence drawled, his deep voice laced with amusement.
Elara froze.
Her mind was blank.
Panic hit her like a tidal wave.
Slowly, she lifted the blanket and peeked underneath, relieved beyond words to see she was still fully dressed.
