Distant music filtered into Hunters consciousness and, eyes still closed, he shifted to reach toward his bedside table.
Im sorry, its work. Poppys voice was husky from sleep, and he smiled to himself at the sexy lilt. He heard her clear her throat. Hello? Yes, just a moment.
Soft lips touched his as she leaned over him. Her hair tickled his face. Ill take it out on the veranda. Go back to sleep. Its barely six oclock.
In spite of her admonition, Hunter turned onto his side, curling his left arm beneath his pillow as he watched her slip out of bed. In the grey half-light of early morning, she was silhouetted against the French doors, and he appreciated the curve of her hips, the space between her thighs, the jiggle of her full breasts, their points sharp in the morning chill. The sight reminded him of the previous night, of her perfect body glowing in the firelight.