She froze.
But he didn't stop in front of her. He passed her close enough that she caught his faint scent. Then he took the clothes from the chair, "I won't be long,"
He went into the bathing chamber and shut the door. Daphne stood there, towel still in her hands, her pulse loud in her ears.
When he finally came back out, he only had on his trousers, like always, making his perfectly chiseled abs visible.
Daphne glanced up without meaning to and instantly regretted it. She looked away just as fast, her fingers tightened around the embroidery frame on her lap.
She told herself to focus, to just stitch, to breathe, but she couldn't. Instead she felt his eyes on her before he crossed the room and got onto the bed.
The mattress dipped, forcing the space between them to disappear almost completely.
