Under the dim nightlight, the man's face was strikingly handsome yet obscure, carrying an air of unfathomable complexity.
Delphine was awakened by his kiss. The frosty pine scent clinging to him grew even more piercing in the winter night. She reached out and touched his slightly damp, disheveled hair, then retracted her hand sharply from the cold.
Ignatius Leclair's body stiffened as he let her go. He rose to grab a towel and carelessly dried his short hair before sitting on the edge of the bed. Looking at her, he said coolly, "Don't you have anything you want to say?"
Delphine realized she was in Ignatius Leclair's bedroom. She sat up, her fingertips slightly clutching the sheets, and quietly replied, "I knew you wouldn't be harmed."
