Jamie took in the scene around him. Sometime during the night, he must have shifted, and the quilt had fallen to the floor. His cheek had been pressed against the soft valley between Claire's breasts, and his hair was whorled over, covering her nipples. He and Claire were warm and sticky with sweat, but the winter air that gusted in through the un-curtained window chilled his back and thighs, and probably Claire's feet as well.