We both sucked in a breath and turned toward the deep voice rumbling from the doorway, dominating the bathroom. It wasn't simply the sound of Sterling Sparrow that stole my breath; it was the authority of his presence. Swallowing, I scanned the man who'd suddenly appeared.
More haggard than usual, Sterling was still the handsomest man I'd ever encountered. Though his gaze and set jaw said business, his posture seemed more relaxed. With one arm lifted to the doorjamb, the muscles of his bicep bulged. In the time it took to blink, my gaze moved lower to where his lightweight sweatpants hung low from his hips, revealing the V of his torso. In that small toned area between his t-shirt and pants, made visible by his uplifted arm, was the area with the trail of dark hair.
“Mr. Sparrow," Dr. D
