Valentina stood in front of the bathroom mirror, gripping the towel around her hair, staring at her reflection like it held all the answers she needed.
Her skin still held a faint flush, remnants of the heat from the shower—or maybe from before the shower.
She swallowed, three times, and squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her lips together to stop the ridiculous, giddy smile threatening to break free.
Jeez.
She should not be feeling like this. Not after that. Not after the things she let him do. But the second she thought about it, her stomach did this ridiculous little flip, and she had to physically shake her head to push the memories away.
She pulled the towel from her head, running her fingers through her damp hair. It was a mess. She was a mess.
She was too damn embarrassed to get
