"Fine," Heena murmured. Her tone lost its haughty edge, replaced by a quiet, purring authority that owned his very soul. "Take off your clothes."
Though his massive hands shook so badly he could barely hook his fingers in the fabric, Samuel did not hesitate for a second. He grasped the thick woven sash at his waist, fumbling with the knot in a frantic blur of motion.
Slowly, layer by layer, the crisp disguise of a stoic estate guard fell to ruin. The navy outer robe pooled onto the floor in a dark heap.
His inner linen shirt quickly followed, dragged roughly over those broad, corded shoulders and discarded on the mat. As his bare chest was exposed to the cool air, the source of his torment came into sharp focus.
