C15 ICE FIFTEEN: NO PRIVACY.

THANE'S POV:

As I buttoned my burgundy shirt slowly, methodically over my navy-blue briefs, the memory of her face wouldn’t leave my head.

“How the hell does one woman barely five-foot-two—have me this twisted?” I muttered, scowling at my reflection like it owed me answers. My voice bounced off the marble. I might as well have been yelling into a void