4
FIANNA WOKE TO the sound of birdsong the next morning. Niall was curled protectively around her on the chaise, his breath warming her neck. They were high above a marine layer of fog that blanketed the coastline below.
The events of the night before rushed to her mind. The success of the runway show, the fierce tide that had nearly cost them their lives. Niall’s deft handling of the evening, the waffles and wine they’d enjoyed under the stars, the sound of his voice, and the taste of his lips on hers.
Except for the raging tide, it was all she’d imagined in the recesses of her mind, where hope and wishes and dreams resided. Niall had been completely unexpected, but not unwelcome.
She shifted in his arms, and he tightened his grip on her as he murmured in his sleep. “Mmm, Laila… misse
