Master Bedroom, Morning
Draven surfaced from sleep slowly, warmth and softness pressed against him. Sunlight cut through the gap in the heavy curtains, painting a golden line across the enormous bed.
His bed now. The Duke's bed.
He opened his eyes to find his mother watching him, propped up on one elbow. Her dark hair spilled across the silk pillows, and she wore nothing but that soft, devastating smile she reserved only for him.
"You were dreaming," Elise murmured, trailing her fingers along his jaw. "Smiling in your sleep."
"Was I?" His voice came out rough. "What gave me away?"
"You always get this look. Like you're winning at something." She leaned in, brushing her lips against his. "Were you? Winning?"
"Maybe." He caught her hand, pressed a kiss to her palm. "Or maybe I just realized I already won."
