Amelia spent the night in Liam’s arms, in his bedchambers instead of her own, with complete disregard to the damned protocol.
When morning came, he woke her up with small butterfly kisses to her jaw. Amelia opened one eye, and then the other, before sending her best glare his way.
“Seriously?” She yawned. “What time is it?”
“It’s nearly nine am.”
“And you’re waking me this early because…?” She demanded to know, a pout settling on her lips.
“Because the healer will be here in an hour,” he explained, a smile breaking through his cold features.
Amelia marveled at the smile and raised her hand to trace his lips. Liam leaned into the touch before kissing her open palm lovingly.
“You are the light to my darkness, the breeze of fresh air to my glum world,” he told her matter-of-factl
