Becoming the Queen Luna
CHAPTER EIGHTY-SIX
CHRISTINA
The shower shut off, and a few moments later Marcel stepped out, towel low on his hips, water still sliding down the hard ridges of his chest.
His hair was wet, dark strands sticking to his forehead, he stopped dead when he saw me.
I was sitting right on the edge of the bed, completely naked, legs crossed loosely, watching him.
“Christina,” he said, voice rough with disapproval.
“What the hell are you doing? You’re supposed to be resting, put some clothes on, you might catch a cold”
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