His lips turned up in a gentle smile and she stilled, the cup still pressed to her lips. He was devastatingly handsome when he smiled. And she was ordinary. Where he was as fierce as his namesake, she was a small wren with brown hair and brown eyes. She wasn’t tall and willowy, but short and rounded. Her skin was her best feature as it was smooth and unmarred by blemishes. Still, she had to wonder if he was disappointed by the way she looked.
Her nerves came back full force and he didn’t help matters when he turned and walked around to the other side of the bed, tugging off his tunic as he went. He removed a knife from the sheath at his waist and placed it on a table beside the bed. Then he pulled off his boots and the rest of his clothing.
She closed her eyes, half afraid to watch. But curiosity got the better of her and she peeked. Naked, he appeared even larger than when he was fully clothed. His legs were as thick as tree trunks, his arms heavily roped with muscle. His chest was broad and lightly furred. Her gaze dropped, following the thin line of hair that bisected his stomach.