CHAPTER 112

　　Olivia's POV

　　I stood there, letting Christopher pat me dry with the towel. It was oddly intimate, like being cared for by a particularly attentive cat. A very large, very naked cat.

　　I expected him to hand me a robe when he finished, but he held it open instead. "Arms up," he instructed.

　　"What, am I a kid?" I laughed but complied, raising my arms like a kid waiting for a sweater.

　　He slipped the robe onto me, his hands lingering a moment too long as he adjusted the collar.

　　"There," he murmured huskily. "All wrapped up like a present."

　　"A present to yourself, maybe."

　　He chuckled, reaching for his own towel. I tried not to stare as he dried himself off, but the man looked like he'd been carved out of marble. It was like watching a Greek god towel off after a dip in the Aegean.

　　He donned his own robe, and we padded into the bedroom. The plush carpet felt like walking on clouds, and I half expected to find a harp-playing cherub around every corner.