The sensation of waking with someone’s arms around her was strange. Summer held very still, glancing around the forest and trying to determine if Sir Isaac was awake as well. Did he realise he was holding her, like something precious? Though she supposed a more important question was, why was he holding her? She clearly remembered falling asleep as far away as possible. But he was so warm, and the clasp of his body close to hers stirred things in her.
Sir Isaac slept on deeply, oblivious to the musings in the figure beside him, sighing softly as he unconsciously tightened his hold around her. It had been so long since he’d shared a bed with another, and although he wasn’t short of offers, he constantly declined. Sighing and angling his face away from the rising sun, he mumbled incoherent nonsense under his breath before settling down.
With great care, she turned in his arms until she could see his face. He looked so peaceful, sleeping, almost childlike. Waking, his expression was almost stern, like the arrogant purity of an angel, but in sleep he softened. The tips of his eyelashes lay golden against his cheeks, and his halo of curls seemed even more unruly. Lightly, she brushed an errant curl off his forehead.