Chapter Four
Lawrence woke to the chiming of the grandfather clock in the corridor outside his bedroom.
Half past seven. It was still early, and they had gone to bed in the wee hours of the morning.
He shifted, feeling the welcome weight of Zehra in his arms. Her head rested on his chest, and their legs were entwined. Her chemise had ridden up, and he had one hand on her left thigh. She had one hand in his hair, as though she’d fallen asleep stroking her fingers through the strands. A smile twisted his lips. She liked his hair—just as he liked hers.
He wondered if she was genuinely at ease with him, or if it was something she’d done unconsciously during her sleep. Either way, he liked that she was touching him. He wanted her to feel safe with him, to feel she could be around him, even
