Zayne didn't wake up, nor made a sound.
She even touched him. Nothing.
Good, he was deep in his sleep and wouldn't even know she'd been here.
Blowing out a deep puff of breath, she got into the bed beside him, shifting closer until she was as near to him as she could get.
She stared at his face, listened for every breath he took.
Her fingers itched. She wanted to touch him. And she did, lifting her hand till it could rest against his cheek.
She stroked under his eye, against his ear, and through his hair before letting out a soft breath.
"Sleep well…Mr. Mancini."
Her eyes closed shut eventually.
Zayne on the other hand blinked apart his lashes, gaze fixed on her face. He'd known from the moment she stood at that door.
He hadn't said a word because he was curious. He wanted to know what she desired from him, or what she had to say.
It was all… Sleep well, Mr. Mancini.
And when was the last time she ever referred to him so formally?
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