Her bare feet poked out from under the edge of the knitted afghan thrown over her lap and legs. Seeing how pale and vulnerable they looked against the dark wood floor sent an unexpected lance of anguish through his heart.
“You do that a lot, you know,” she murmured, rousing. She turned to gaze at him through heavy-lidded eyes, her hair a tousled fall of honey around her bare shoulders.
“What, exactly?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe.
Her lips quirked. She looked him up and down once before answering.
“Stare at me.”
“I do? Well, I beg your pardon. I wasn’t aware that I did.”
A crystal vase of garden roses dropped scarlet petals over a bureau near her chair. Their scent filled the air. He crossed to it, moving casually, and took a blossom between his fingers. He imagined her p
