Sunday morning arrived with a cruel, golden light that seemed to announce the end of our stolen world. I woke up wrapped in Harrison’s arms, the charcoal sheets tangled around our legs like a cocoon. For the first time since I had entered this house, the air didn't feel charged with a battle of wills. Instead, it felt heavy with a quiet, aching tenderness.
I shifted, pressing my cheek against his chest, listening to the slow, steady rhythm of his heart. The silence of the house was absolute, a stark contrast to the storm of passion that had raged through the last forty-eight hours.
"You're thinking," he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly rumble.
"Is it that obvious?" I whispered.
He tightened his grip on me, pulling me closer. "You have a specific way of breathing when you're calculat
