“I blink and look up. And up. Oh good god. The man towering over me … he’s a mountain – all broad shoulders, strong limbs and a firm jaw. And … he’s not wearing a shirt. His chest is toned, muscular and tanned, with streaks of mud over his abs and an eagle tattoo on his left collarbone. Fucking hell! Why the fuck is he walking around bare-chested like some kind of caveman? ‘What happened to your shirt?’ I stammer, then wince at my stupid, embarrassing question. Now he knows I’ve been gawping at his chest.”
