Claire woke from a dreamless sleep. It was just past dawn, the sallow sky above creeping in through the cracks of the thatched roof. Outside the hut, a thin blanket of mist was draping itself over the village. A ribbon of smoke streamed up over the smoldering embers of last night"s bonfire.
Lying in his hammock beside her was Owen. He slept on his back, and his long, lean body was stretched out over the woven swing. She sat up and studied the crow"s feet spreading out from his eyes. A faint crescent scar hid just within the hairline above his right brow. Why hadn"t she ever noticed that before? He also needed a shave, but she kind of liked the stubbly look on him; gave him character.
His nose twitched, and she saw his eyes move behind closed lids. She wondered what he dreamed about. Did
