The morning rays of sunlight streamed in through the tall curtains, scattering across the floor and the edge of the bed where Circe lay. The warmth touched her skin, stirring her from sleep.
By the time Ragnar had returned to their room the night before, she had already fallen asleep, exhaustion finally overtaking her after the whirlwind of emotions that had consumed them both.
Now, as her lashes fluttered open, her vision cleared to find him standing by the dresser, naked from the waist up.
Her breath caught.
His back was to her at first, broad and muscled, the morning light tracing the strong lines of his shoulders. He was pulling a plain tunic over his head, the movement fluid and smooth.
The moment their gazes met in the mirror, the memories of last night came rushing back all at once, the warmth of his hands, the feel of his lips, the way her body had responded, eager and unguarded.
Her cheeks flushed crimson, her stomach twisting with disbelief.
