Page 203 of Claimed At First Sight

I freeze, listening.

For several seconds, there’s only the steady hiss of the shower.

I must have imagined it.

Truly, the sensible thing is to leave. I’ve confirmed Maximo’s location, inspected his bedroom, and discovered far more about his preferred use of a four-poster bed than I needed to know before breakfast.

I take another step toward the hallway, but another low grunt carries through the partially open bathroom door.

It doesn’t sound like pain. At least, I don’t think it does.

But it would be irresponsible to walk away without making sure he hasn’t slipped in the shower and sustained a life-threatening injury, wouldn’t it?

My concern for his welfare has absolutely nothing to do with wanting to see him naked and lay eyes on what my hands explored earlier. That would be an incidental benefit of saving his life.

Moving as quietly as possible, I inch toward the narrow opening and peek through. I can see a spacious bathroom lined with dark stone, but clouds of steam soften everything beyond the entrance.

I lean closer.

Maximo stands beneath an enormous rainfall shower with his back turned to me. Water streams over his shoulders and follows the deep ridges of muscle down his back before disappearing somewhere below my obstructed line of sight.

Damn fogged glass.

But even through it, I can make out the powerful width of his shoulders, the taper of his waist, and the way every muscle shifts beneath his wet skin when he moves.

My heart begins beating faster as I remember how all that strength felt beneath my palms and how carefully he held it in check while he was above me.

Another rough groan leaves him.

One of his shoulders flexes, and only then do I notice the movement of his arm. His hand is hidden in front of his body, but the slow, rhythmic motion leaves little doubt about where it is or what he’s doing.

My eyes widen.

Oh. My. God.

My fingers clench into fists while my gaze remains fixed on the steady movement of his arm, horrified by what I’ve walked in on and somehow unable to look away.

He isn’t injured. Not at all.

My core develops an answering pulse, and I press my thighs together to stop it. I only feel it more.

Argh, I’ve got to leave.

Now.

Before he notices me standing here gawking at him as though I’ve never seen a naked man before. Well, actually, I haven’t.

I spin to flee, but before I can take a single step, his voice reaches me through the rushing water.

“Mia.”

Every muscle in my body locks. Even my heart seems to stop for one impossible second before slamming back into motion.

Dammit, he saw me.

Mortified, I bite down on my lip as I turn around ever so slowly.

But his back is still turned to me, and he’s still doing… that.