Charlotte's POV
For a brief moment, it felt like I was still dreaming. There was warmth—unfamiliar but strangely comforting—wrapped around me like a cocoon. The softness of the sheets, the rhythmic rise and fall of someone else's breathing, the faint scent of cedarwood and clean linen... it all lulled me into a fragile sense of peace. A small smile tugged at my lips before I even opened my eyes.
But the illusion shattered the moment awareness crept in. My lashes fluttered open, and my breath caught in my throat.
I was in Jack Morigan's suite.
The realization struck like lightning, sharp and jarring. His arm was slung over my waist, heavy and possessive, as if holding me there. Our bodies were tangled beneath the sheets—skin against skin. Bare. Intimate. Exposed.
I froze.
Every nerve in my body screamed as memories from the night before crashed into me with brutal clarity.
