A Fine Scottish Spell (The Magical Matchmakers of Seven Cairns #2)

E mily slowly rose from the depths of a lovely, delicious sleep and became aware of Gryffe’s warm, callused hand resting low on her bare stomach.

His fingers were splayed wide as if to keep her from floating up into the night, and every now and then, they would gently flex in a caress meant to be tender so as not to wake her.

The candle on the mantel had burned out so the only light in the room was that of the full moon peeping in through the window.

Its light shone across the bed, setting them both aglow with an eerie blue-white luminescence.