So cold, Kira thought, her consciousness drifting in the grey space between sleep and wakefulness.
A phone buzzed relentlessly somewhere close. She groaned, rolled over to escape the noise, only to roll straight off the bed and hit the floor with a thud.
"Ouch!" she yelped, eyes snapping open.
The first thing she saw was the underside of a mahogany desk and a towering bookshelf crammed with books. Her neck ached from the awkward angle she had slept in. Morning sunlight slipped through the blinds, casting striped shadows across the room, birds sang outside like nothing was wrong, and from the courtyard below came the sharp bark of men's voices issuing commands.
The phone buzzed again.
Kira pushed herself up, rubbing her sore neck as the fog of sleep cleared. She was in Derek's study. Right. Last night flooded back: storming in to annoy him, prattling on until she had fallen asleep right there on his couch. She had even asked him to wake her when he finished.
