She hesitated before dipping her head and touching her nose to the collar. Beneath the smells of grass and bamboo were hints of acrid smoke and incense…and an undoubtedly masculine scent. “Good morning.” Lan jumped. Zen stepped out from between the stalks of bamboo. He looked well rested and impossibly clean, hair wet and combed into some semblance of style, skin scrubbed of sweat and dirt and as shiny as pale jade. Even without his long coat, he was a regal sight in a white shirt tucked into black breeches. He’d removed his boots, and his bare feet made no sound as he approached.
