I shut the water off, dried myself with shaking hands, and reached for the only thing hanging on the hook—the short white bathrobe Lincoln had bought me as a wedding gift and never once asked me to wear. It barely covered the curve of my ass. The belt was thin. One tug and it would fall. I left my hair wet and dripping down my back. I didn’t bother with underwear. There was no point. The robe was already clinging to the damp heat between my legs.
I opened the door.
Dominic stood in the hallway, one hand braced against the wall, the other clenched at his side. His eyes dropped the second he saw me. They raked from my wet hair to the deep V of the robe where my t**s nearly spilled out, down to the bare tops of my thighs, then lower—lingering on the place where the fabric stopped just short
