Chapter Fifty-six : The Flying Foundation
The morning after the storm had truly cleared, the bedroom was filled with a soft, pale gold light. The frantic, heavy heat of the night before had settled into a comfortable, lazy warmth. I was lying with my head on Alexander’s bare chest, listening to the slow, steady drum of his heart beneath my ear. His long arm was wrapped around my shoulders, his bandaged fingers gently playing with the ends of my dark hair.
For the first time since I had arrived in New York, the air in the room did not feel heavy with unsaid words or hidden plans. We had fought the courts, we had fought the kidnapper, and we had won.
Alexander turned his head, his blue eyes clear and bright in the morning sun. He leaned down and pressed a long, warm kiss against my forehe
