She pulled him onto the bed, slipping under the sheets. Her brow was puckered with worry, but she reached for him, her gaze expectant.
Her breathing gradually slowed as she drifted off, but her sleep was restless, her brow furrowed as she murmured under her breath.
The forest was cool but beautiful in the afternoon light. There was no sign of Poppy as Francis headed towards the clearing, but that was expected. She had said that she might be a little late.
