The sound of the suite door clicking shut woke Shirley. She peeked out from under the comforter, watching Ethan carry a tray of croissants, fruit and coffee over to the table.
He'd pulled on some jeans but wore no shirt, and the warm morning light played lovingly across his well-muscled chest and stomach. He had good skin color, considering how little he saw of the sun.
"Are you getting up?" He flipped the cups right-side up and poured two coffees.
She yawned and stretched. She felt like a cat, all warm and contented and full. But that didn't mean she couldn't do with more. Especially when the meal in question was standing a few yards away, looking mighty sexy in tight-fitting jeans. "That depends."
"On what?" He watched her over the rim of his steaming coffee mug, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.
