Nathan Moore quickly leaned over to unbuckle the seatbelt across Titus Zane's body, carefully raised the seat, then got out of the car, walked around to the passenger door, opened it, and carried Titus Zane in his arms toward the elevator.
It was in Nathan Moore's embrace that Titus Zane awoke.
It was a rare, sound sleep, free from insomnia.
Maybe it was the effect of alcohol.
Once, she'd relied on alcohol to sleep, to the point that it later energized her instead, leaving her utterly sleepless.
The curtains of the floor-to-ceiling window were not fully drawn, intentionally left ajar, it seemed.
Morning light slipped through the gap, stinging Titus Zane's eyes into a squint.
She lifted her hand to block the light falling on her face and looked around in a daze.
The room was unfamiliar, yet somewhat recognizable.
Only belatedly did she notice a weight around her waist.
Her gaze returned, and that's when Titus Zane saw the man sleeping opposite her.
