Chapter Ten
The Verge
The natural morning light coming through the bathroom window was sufficient for a man who shaved as much by feel as by sight. Loughlin’s careful hand moved in easy, practiced strokes over the planes of his face. It was the same razor he’d used since he started shaving.
He studied his face in the mirror. It was a handsome face, he supposed. High forehead, well shaped, arched eyebrows with a slight indentation between them. Pale gray eyes with black flecks, probably his best feature. His fine blonde hair was cut quite short, which didn’t keep it from taking off in wild, undisciplined tangents.
His face was weathered from outdoor living which probably made him look older than his thirty-three years. Was it a face Meris could grow fond of, he wondered. Or did the seri
