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Moreau's attention was focused straight on something Abihirt was doing in the kitchen. One of the man's hands seemed to be busy spilling capsules into the other. Something she didn't exactly know what, but never left her attention from there, to the throat moving as he downed a glass of water.

Abihirt was shirtless and seemed to have just finished his morning routine. There were several beads of sweat on the man's body, which fell from the base of his jaw to the tendrils creeping into the crevices of his abdominal muscles.

An amazing sight in the morning. Moreau swallowed harshly, then tried hard to get rid of the dirty thoughts in her mind. She really, really didn't want to do that. Perhaps she should learn to get used to Abihirt's sturdy body, which didn't seem to realize that Moreau was an inch away, until the handsome face turned.

As usual, it was always calm-almost unreadable.

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