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Dead wrong. She did have to worry, not because of his scars but because of the rest of his spectacular torso. He looked as if he’d been chiseled by a master sculptor who had lost patience and flung handfuls of clay over one half of his work. Muscles rippled and flexed as he draped his t-shirt across the back of his chair.
What had she been thinking? This was lunacy. No way could she put her hands on this man and not lose her carefully achieved cool.
“It’s bad, huh?” His face was turned away from her as he spoke in a low voice. “If you want to back out, I understand.”
Yes, she wanted to back out. Because a certain sensation was vaulting through her lower belly right now. Want. Desire. s****l desire. Crap. Crap crap crap. She cleared her throat.
“Of course not. It’s not so bad. I’ve
