Northern Encounter

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Tessa forced herself not to stare in the low lighting but her heart thumped in her chest like a wild thing. She had only thought he was potently sexy before. Now she knew.

“Excuse me,” she murmured, for lack of anything else to say. Something desperately needed to be said, otherwise she’d probably continue to stare at him like a hungry cat eyeing a tin of sardines. For crying out loud, you’d think she’d never seen a man with his shirt open. She had. Plenty of them, in fact. It was just that none of them had been this man and none of them had looked like he did.

“Trouble sleeping?” he asked in a low tone. The shadowed hallway accentuated the angles and planes of his face, the intensity of his dark eyes.