Maya looked up in surprise.
The moment she lifted her head, she instinctively swallowed.
Damien was standing only a few feet away, shirtless, dressed in nothing but a pair of black boxers. From where she was crouched, her eye level landed rather awkwardly, and her cheeks immediately warmed.
She quickly averted her gaze and cleared her throat.
“Getting my clothes?” she answered, trying—and failing—to sound completely unaffected.
A small frown appeared on Damien’s face.
“The room is cold. Go back inside.”
The response came so quickly that Maya almost laughed.
“Damien—”
“Your hair is still wet,” he interrupted before she could finish.
“But it’s just right here, see?” she tried to reason. She reached down and grabbed the corner of the robe lying on top of the neatly folded clothes.
