His towel sat low on his hips, revealing the sharp V of his torso, beads of water sliding down the ridges of his abs. His skin glistened under the glow of the sunlight streaming through the window, every drop tracing a lazy, magnetic path down his chest. His dark hair was tousled, damp strands clinging to his forehead, giving him a rugged, just-roused charm that made Anne's pulse stumble.
Anne's heart skipped a beat. She couldn't take her eyes off him as if she were watching him for the first time.
He looked at her with that boyish grin that lit up his face, softening the raw masculinity of his body. The contrast was disarming—hard lines and gentle eyes, strength and softness woven into one.
Muscles flexed subtly beneath his skin as he raked a hand through his damp, tousled hair, sending a few drops scattering. His biceps, strong and well-shaped, tightened with the motion.
