Chapter 47

Her head came up and she met his eyes. He ought to see the questions in them. But either she was too tired to fight, or she'd felt, just like he had, that the need to be nearer was… just that: a need.

His breath obtained faster.

She'd had the towel wrapped round her like a blanket when she looked, but it had fallen to the filth when he startled her and now she stood there in nothing but a long, shapeless cotton shirt.

While she watched, he slid a hand from her jaw, down her neck, brushing the facet of her breast as he observed the line of her body down to that high-quality dip in her waist, and the flare of her hip, then to her thigh where he stopped and fisted the shirt.

It solely reached halfway to her knees and he was nearly certain if he raised it, she'd be sporting nothing underneath. His physique howled for attention, however he pushed it back. He hadn't even kissed her yet, but some thing drove him forward—the instinct of the wolf i