How beautiful he was, she thought tenderly. His rumpled chestnut hair gave him an air of boyishness that was in strange contrast to the mature masculinity of his tough, muscular body. The bronze of his skin appeared much darker in the hazy half-light illuminating the room, and his eyes shone a more brilliant shade of blue. “I liked that very much,” she said softly. “But next time could we do it in a way that makes it possible for me to watch your face? I think I would enjoy that even more.” He muttered a low curse and jumped up from the bed. “What the hell would you say if I said no?” He strode over to the huge wardrobe trunk against the far wall and threw it open with barely contained violence. He jerked out a velvet surcoat in a shade of rich chocolate-brown and pulled it on. “What if I said I’d rather have you on your head or maybe—” He stopped and leaned his forehead against the side of the trunk. “Dammit, Sacha, why didn’t you tell me?” “It wasn’t important, and I knew you would feel guilty about making love to a virgin.”
