m, a white towel knotted around his waist, another draped over his shoulders. Drople

ense interest in the pattern of the cheap area rug. "The bathroom's free," she st

led into the bath

ng them on the end table, and rubbed his tired eyes. He leaned his head back, the silence of the apartment settling around hi

cing. She was being ridiculous. He was her husband.

. Her hand met empty air. She looked. Her underwear was there, but the soft cotton nightgown she'd br

around herself, her heart pounding against her ribs. She could call out to him, ask him to ge

oor. Silence. Maybe he'd gon

y, a small, rational v

she cracked the door open. The living room was bathed in the soft, yellow glow of the

n the floorboards. She moved as quickly as she could, a frantic, half-nak

door latch had pulled him from his reverie. He had

sight hit Julian li

hair was plastered to her back. The small towel barely covered her, leaving the l

d, and a fierce, unfamiliar heat ignited low in hi

y women his mother paraded before him, with their perfect bodies and calculated seductions, had stirred n

nd powerful physical react

er heart thudding with relief. She leaned against the door,

bedroom door closing. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, and forced h

dressed in a modest nightgown, she saw

to bed," she said

reply. His voice was a lo

ed look but didn't comment, q

betrayal was undeniable. With a muttered curse, he strode back into

s. This transaction ha