It had been approximately forty-eight hours since she'd been in proximity to any person in a state of undress.
She had spent those forty-eight hours largely on high alert, weapons in hand, focused on threat assessment.
She was a practical young woman from a practical community and she had a working understanding of anatomy that was neither naïve nor morbid.
None of this prepared her for Viktor.
What she was looking at was — Viktor, freshly finished from whatever he'd been doing, which meant 'limp,' theoretically relaxed, the natural resting state of a man simply standing there — and it was 'still' the most confronting physical fact she had encountered in her twenty-two years of life.
Thick in the specific way of something dense rather than just long, hanging with the comfortable weight of something that owned the space it occupied.
Her brain provided a completely unwanted mental image.
She locked it in a room and threw the room into a lake.
