What the Waves Bring (2012)
“She headed for the kitchen and found it empty, then ducked into the spare room with similar results, finally winding up before the half-closed door of the bathroom. On impulse she lent her weight against the fast-yielding doorknob, then gasped at the sight of the lather-faced St. Nick returning her startled gaze in the mirror.
For that moment of speechless suspension, their eyes locked and held. His were as dark as she had imagined them to be, though deep and strangely cautious. Hers were softer, warm with relief, more rounded in astonishment. Their periphery encompassed his bare chest, the towel at his hips, his hand stilled in mid-air holding a razor—her razor—and frozen in the act of shaving.
“I’m sorry …” she whispered at last, blushing and awkward. True, this was her house and, given the condition of this man when last she’d seen him, she’d had every reason to worry. But to brazenly intrude on his privacy … In hasty retreat she backed from the small room and closed its door firmly.
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