The moment Celia Sterling got into bed, Silas Norwood immediately dimmed the lights.
In the dim, intimate glow, his handsome figure descended, pinning her beneath him. This close, Celia could clearly smell his intoxicating, cool scent, mingled with a hint of men's body wash. And with that single motion, the man's cool presence gradually grew scorching hot.
"Silas Norwood," Celia said, pressing a hand against his chest, her voice soft and alluring. "Weren't you being so proper just a moment ago? Done with the act?"
In the darkness, Silas said nothing.
He simply pulled open his bathrobe, took her hand, and guided it inside. He pressed it against his chest, tracing it down the contours of his muscles, over his chiseled abs, until it reached his taut waistline.
Celia's mouth instantly went dry. "Silas, you've gotten wicked…"
