Evelyn Smith?
When Sophia Cloud awoke, her throat felt hoarse and uncomfortable, which seemed to happen every time these days.
The room was dimly lit by a single yellow lamp. As she descended from the bed in a daze, she accidentally kicked the couch and leaned toward it for support, expecting the chill of leather, yet she fell into a warm embrace instead.
The man's scent was a blend of light mint and tobacco, familiar yet strange.
"Throwing yourself into my arms in the middle of the night?"
Leo Harrell's voice was deep. In fact, he had been awake since she stirred, and he had noticed the vase on the floor but hadn't warned her.
He knew that Sophia Cloud has some night vision issues.
Sophia's face immediately flushed the color of liver, and, shaking her head frantically, she gestured in panic.
—Sorry, it was an accident.
Leo Harrell only had to glance down to see the little woman in his arms clearly; holding her delicate body, he suddenly felt a little reluctant to move.