She stood there, bathed in the soft glow of light from the bedside lamp, wearing a soft blue silk, lace-trimmed nightie that only went to mid-thigh. It hugged her generous curves and showed ample cleavage.
His brain immediately short-circuited.
“Yes, Nico?” she asked.
He stood there, stupefied, and for the life of him he couldn’t remember why he’d knocked on the door in the first place. All of the blood in his brain seemed to have flowed down to... somewhere else.
“Nico?” she asked again, sounding a little confused.
He finally found his voice. “Jesus, Becca, are you *trying* to kill me?” he rasped.
She flushed, glancing down at her sleepwear self-consciously. “It was a wedding gift from my sister,” she said, her cheeks pink. “I promised her I’d wear it tonight. I couldn’t exactly tell her that I... that we...”