Again, a blush heated Pearl’s skin, and a strange kind of pleasure, too. She’d been told all manner of things regarding her person, that she were an angel, a nymph, a goddess come to life. All these things she’d dismissed, much as she’d dismissed the men saying them. But Garrett telling her, with a tilt to his mouth and a solemnity to his eyes, her hair was a glory had her all flustered and downright flattered.
Ethan stared down at Pearl. Unaware of his perusal, she slept on, her face peaceful and her chest rising and falling gently. She’d pushed the bed covers down to her waist, a wide vee of her skin revealed by the half-opened chemise, trapped and pulled tight by her body. The cloth had fallen sometime in the night, and the light from the lamp hit the tinsel on her Christmas tree, throwing color and spangles over the creamy flesh. An insane urge rose within him, an urge to see if the colors would change the flavor of her.