Bab 25: Chapter 25: The Deal

Mercy Hall

A shroud of warmth cocoons Mercy's body. On the cusp between twilight sleep and waking, she willfully lingers. But then her eyes flutter open.

An olive-skinned forearm with dark hair comes into focus. She spies a bent elbow. Her gaze travels the length of a well-tanned arm, leading to a muscular shoulder.

Craning her neck, she stares into a familiar face.

She taps Ambrose.

He doesn't move.

Taking care not to hurt her shoulder, she inches around until she's flat on her back.

Hesitantly, she touches his arm, again. Nothing, he doesn't move. However, this time, she leaves her hand in place. Her palm skims along the bend of his elbow. The hair on his arm tickles the pads of her fingertips. She hesitates before moving on to the smooth, sculpted skin of his chest.

He draws in a deep breath, and his lips softly smack together before he exhales a ragged breath. After a few seconds, his breathing evens out.