Chase opened the door quietly so he wouldn’t startle her, but it was he who was surprised. She was so unbelievably beautiful that he stood in the doorway and stared. The light from the hall lay across her sleeping face like sunlight on the first blossom of springtime. Her hair—oh, God, her hair—lay loose around her shoulders like sheets of sheer red and gold. It was longer than he’d realized, delicate strands reaching all the way to the peaks of her breasts.
A shock wave surged through his veins, and he stood transfixed. The blankets lay at her waist, revealing ivory nightclothes. Silk stretched taut across her breasts, lace bordering the shiny fabric. One thin, fallen strap now caressed her forearm.
Chase’s senses were in disarray. With the exception of her birthday, when she wore a dress, he had never seen her in anything but jeans and western shirts. The contrast of silk and lace stirred him to say the least. Contradictions. This woman was one kind of person on the surface and another underneath. He felt as if he could stand in this doorway watching her sleep for a lifetime.
A loud clap of thunder made her eyes flutter open, and she saw him. Chase held his breath. He almost expected a scream or a frightened cry for help, but again she surprised him. Instead of fear he saw an expression of pleasure, and her voice was husky with sleep.
“Hello.”