"s**t," Beth cursed, barely above a whisper, before her brain could catch up and she’d thought better of it.
It wasn’t the best reaction she could have given, but who could blame her? She was operating on zero caffeine, trying to figure out what the parcel meant, and now she was faced with a view that threatened to turn her thought process to mush.
Looking positively intimidating like a marble sculpture of a Greek god, Santiago stood in the doorway in dark trousers and a grey shirt not yet fully buttoned at the collar and exposing skin and a dusting of hair she had no business staring at.
Thankfully, she managed to drag her eyes away from that and back to his chest just in time to see one perfect brow arched up. Suddenly, Beth wished for a building collapse or a flood to carry her away
