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He woke slowly, finding himself warm, comfortable, well-rested. There was a warm pressure on his chest and shoulder.
Leander opened his eyes slowly. There was a tumble of auburn curls on his chest. Sylviane was snuggled against him, her eyes closed, her breathing even.
This, this he could get used to.
The moment he had the thought, he wanted to slap himself. She was beautiful, sure. She was very nice. She also, more or less, owned him. He’d be an idiot to get attached. Eventually, she was going to get bored, and things were going to get difficult. He didn’t have the temperament to kowtow and keep her entertained. Continue reading