Chapter 22

Snatching up her skirt and shimmying into it, she finally felt brave enough to turn around. He was standing on the other side of the bed, with the bulkhead almost touching his broad shoulders. And he was still so boldly naked that she wished her ravished senses would just curl up and die. The soft light from the bedside lamp played across the flexing muscles in his shoulders as he pulled on his trousers, the taut clench of his stomach, and his hair-roughened chest.

Dragging her eyes away from him, she missed the way he lowered his own eyes to the burgeoning fullness of her breasts, moulded by fine knit fabric so the tight peaks of her nipples pushed against the cloth.

"I’m not going to apologize for calling a stop to what you said was not going to happen," she tossed back her hair and said.

He hooded his eyes and brought the old cold cynicism back with a vengeance. Bending down towards the bed, he picked up something. ‘Here…’ He tossed it at her. "You had better put this on before you