" Somehow, without her awareness, she'd obviously sought him out during the night, curling around him like a vine while she'd slumbered. Mortified, she tried to pull away. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't realize... that is, I didn't mean to... to..."
"Sleep on me?" he drawled, his words slow and husky.
Opening her mouth, she tried to speak, but nothing came out. She nodded instead.
"Don't worry." He smiled. "You make a very nice blanket. "

― Tracy Anne Warren , Seduced by His Touch (The Byrons of Braebourne, #2)