Too many thoughts were swirling inside Maria's mind, making it impossible to sleep. The comfy bed of the guest room was absolutely of no use.
She turned around – her limbs tangled in the sheets – for the umpteenth time that night, and then finally gave up. She sighed in surrender before shooting out of bed and going straight to Blake's room, which was the very 1st door to her left.
He had left the door open, and it allowed a soft gleam of light to filter to the corridor.
She glanced up from the bedside light that was sitting up proudly on a small Victorian table, and looked at him. He had stopped reading his novel when she entered, and his eyes gently caressed her curves, before flickering to her face.
He was sitting up against the headboard with his sheets sprawled on his lower body,
