This time he needed to see her, to know when her eyes clouded or darkened, to witness those flickers of pleasure or shock. This time he would remember man’s advantage over the animal, and that the mind and heart could play a part. She got a sense of a room of average size, simple buff-colored curtains at the windows, clean-lined furniture without color, a large bed with a navy spread tucked in with precise, military tidiness. There were paintings on the walls that she told herself she would study later, when her heart wasn’t skipping. Scenes both urban and rural were depicted in misty, dreamy watercolors that made a personal contrast to the practical room. But all thoughts of art and decor fled when he set her on her feet beside the bed. She reached out, undid the final buttons of his shirt, while he shrugged out of his jacket. Her brows lifted when she noted he wore his shoulder holster. “Even to a cocktail party?” “Habit,” he said simply, and took it off, hung it over a chair.
