Chapter 11 The Man Who Returns

• The coffee was already poured.
• Victor paused at the edge of the kitchen, saying nothing. His eyes moved from the two mugs on the counter to the back of Ivy’s head. Her damp hair clung to her neck, still twisted into that loose coil she always made when she didn’t want to think too much. His shirt hung from her frame, the hem brushing the tops of her thighs. He could see the faint marks he had left on her hips, the ones that disappeared beneath the cotton.
• Her body was still his. But the way she stood told him something had changed.