She’d composed her features into a bland expression when she faced him, hoping he didn’t notice the effect of seeing him burnished with water and sun had on her senses. Her efforts were almost wasted. He’d left the shirt off and sat down close enough that she noted every delineation of hard muscle in his shoulders and chest. Dappled shade danced across his face and arms, shadowing the planes of his stark features. His hair hung down his back, wet and sleek as a seal’s pelt. “Martise? You’re staring.”
