FOURTEEN
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When she came out of the bathroom wrapped in one of Brodie’s towels, Zara could just make out the outline of Brodie’s form in the middle of the bed in the darkened room with the aid of the bathroom light behind her. The covers were draped over his pelvis and he had a forearm lying across his eyes. She was pained to turn off the bathroom light because that would mean giving up her view of his ripped form.
Being here at his home granted her the privilege of seeing him relaxed and exposed. Scars marred some of his body and they added to her questions about his past. She’d seen him fight, Art had told her of his ability with weapons, but all of those skills hadn’t saved him from every blow.
“Lose the towel,” he grumbled and his heavy voice startled her. It didn’t
