Vincent’s eyes locked onto Sarah’s bare form with total concentration, every word he was willing to say before he came in here forgotten.
Sarah should have reached for the towel and covered herself, but she let him look.
Her heart pounded, not just from the shock that she was naked before him but from the realization that Vincent wasn’t looking at her like a father figure should.
The way his jaw tensed, his Adam’s apple bobbed, and the way his fingers flexed at his sides—he wasn’t indifferent.
But then, as quickly as it happened, he stepped back. His expression turned cold, as though he had just remembered who he was supposed to be.
“Put something on,” he ordered, voice cold, before turning and shutting the door behind him.
Sarah stood there, breathless. If she hadn’t been stan
