Aurora stirred in her sleep, her mouth dry and parched. As she shifted, memories of everything that had happened with Everett suddenly came rushing back.
She jolted awake and saw Everett standing by the window.
Even just his silhouette looked good—tall, composed, and undeniably handsome, even from behind.
She parted her lips slightly and realized she was lying in a luxurious, European-style room—elegantly furnished, clearly some kind of presidential suite.
She was so thirsty.
Dragging herself up, Aurora also noticed how hungry she was. She hadn't been injured before passing out, so now it was just thirst and hunger gnawing at her.
Hearing movement, Everett turned around. His deep eyes locked with hers.
Aurora's face flushed. Seeing him still in his suit, perfectly put together, she lowered her gaze.
"Did… did you take care of your wound?"
"Yeah. Bullet's out."
She let out a quiet breath of relief.
"You… took it out yourself?"
