At the crack of dawn, Kiara woke slowly, the soft, pale light of morning filtering through the heavy drapes. The first thing she registered was the incredible weight of an arm thrown across her waist, pinning her securely against a broad, warm chest. The scent of sandalwood and a clean, masculine musk enveloped her.

She shifted slightly, just enough to turn her head. Abhimaan was asleep, his sharp features softened in the unguarded vulnerability of slumber. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and the demanding tension that usually held his mouth captive was replaced by a gentle curve. He looked less like the ruthless CEO and more like... her husband.