“We don’t have to talk.” He reached for the hem of his tunic, and before I could take another breath, he pulled it over his head, tossing it aside. My lips parted and my eyes widened. I’d seen a man’s chest before, but I’d never seen his.
There was a fine dusting of hair under his navel that disappeared behind his breeches. My gaze dipped even lower, and heat returned, a different kind that didn’t just flush my skin but also invaded my blood.
A strange curling sensation hit my lower stomach. It wasn’t unpleasant. Not at all. It was warm and tingling, reminding me of my first sip of bubbly champagne.
“Death is like an old friend who pays a visit, sometimes when it’s least expected and other times when you’re waiting for her. It’s neither the first nor the last time she’ll pay a visit, but that doesn’t make any death less harsh or unforgiving.”