Lennox Graves was no longer the man who flinched from touch. At least not now, not in this moment. The world beyond the shower curtain had gone silent—the gym, the past, the noise, everything that had ever stood between them blurred into the steam. Only his body remained. And hers. Sloane. This woman. This beautiful, strong, devastatingly alive woman standing before him, with wet hair, damp skin, flushed cheeks, and a vulnerability in her eyes that flipped something irrevocably inside Lennox.
He couldn't hold himself back any longer. He didn't want to. His gaze slid over her body, pausing for a half beat at every point: her collarbone, the curve of her breasts, the line of her stomach, the bend of her thighs. The years spent fighting—now summoned him to a different battle. Not against pai
