“Turning, she glanced behind her, but Boone wasn’t in the bed at her side. She searched the dark room, then saw the curtain beside the French door flutter. The balcony door was open. She slid from the bed, searched the shadows for something to wear, and grabbed the first thing she found. Boone’s white dress shirt. She shrugged it on, breathing in his musk and spicy cologne, rolled up the sleeves to her wrists, and fastened a few buttons for modesty’s sake before padding to the opened door. ... Boone stood with his back to her, his hands clutching the porch rail. Moonlight shone on his bare shoulders. A slight breeze ruffled her shirt, and she pulled it tighter around her as she stepped nearer. “Can’t you sleep?” she asked, leaning her hips against the rail to look up into his face. His features were drawn and hard, his jaw tense enough that a muscle rippled along the edge. “You should go back to bed.”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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