Page 37 of Earl of Spades

“Only a little,” he said, propping on his elbows to look down at her. He took her face between his hands, his thumbs stroking over her cheeks.

“What do you mean?”

He smiled at her, a soft, sweet smile that changed his face. She loved his rock-hard features, but like this—he devastated her. “I mean. Things were already shifting. Don’t you agree?”

Shifting? How? Why?

She supposed they had been changing. She felt more connected to him than any other person ever. And she’d wanted to run and hide, but she’d stayed because…

He was as important to her as her own self-preservation.

That realization stole her breath.

When had that happened, and what would she do if he didn’t feel the same? She’d open herself up for all sorts of hurt.

He kissed her again, his lips a soft brush against hers before he slid to the side and cradled her body against his own. “Get some sleep. You must be exhausted.”

She was. Sleep was exactly what she needed. Surely, after some rest, the answers would become clear.