Chapter 27
Tavish shoved his feet into his jeans, tugged them on, zipped them up, and pulled his shirt over his head. His long fingers combed his tousled midnight-black hair back, and in a minute, he was as composed as if he had walked out of a shower.
Laetitia, on the contrary, didn’t even try to put her clothes on. It would have taken too much time, and she wanted to be ready as soon as he was.
With just her white overcoat, her hair pulled up in a loose bun, white-blonde tendrils framing her face, her supple legs curled under her, and the lacy bra containing her full, firm breasts, she appeared a vision to Tavish, who looked down at her from his towering position.
He opened his mouth to speak, but she raised a finger.
“Notwithstanding whatever my actions indicated to you, I didn’t d
