Bath of Fire
Leon stood, his arms raised above his head, the muscles of his torso flexing beneath his flesh. The sheet draped around his waist fell silently to the floor, a tumble of white at his feet. Sunlight poured in through the high windows, illuminating the hard planes of his chest, the carved sweep of his abdomen, the width of his shoulders. Each inch of him shone, polished and alive in morning light.
Cassidy stopped dead in her tracks, her breath snagged in her throat. Black hair descended around her shoulders, a flowing drapery of silk that glimmered as she turned her eyes. Her own skin burned suddenly, every nerve pinpointing him. Her own deep black eyes snapped to his golden ones, wide and laughing, and there she read the amusement, the teasing, the flame that always made her heart pound.
