He watched her hand. Her fingers were long and slender.
Marissa pulled the sash. The knot came undone with a soft, whispering sound. The silk belt fell away, hanging loosely at her sides.
She shrugged her shoulders.
The white silk robe slid down her arms. It pooled on the floor for a second before she picked it up. She turned away from him slowly, deliberately. She walked to a nearby chair and hung the robe over the back of it, smoothing the fabric with her hand.
Then, she turned back to face him.
Derek's breath hitched. It got stuck in his chest, painful and sharp. He felt like he had been punched.
The nightwear underneath was scandalous.
It was not the modest cotton gown she usually wore. It was something entirely different. It was a slip made of the finest, thinnest lace and sheer silk he had ever seen. It was gossamer-thin. In the backlight of the lamp on his desk, the material was literally transparent.
It left nothing to the imagination.
