Seth Sinclair leaned back lazily, lifting his eyes to glance at her.
"Quite the practiced little voyeur. Like what you see?"
If he hadn't asked, it would have been fine. But the question made Lianne's mind subconsciously evaluate the scene before her.
The night was deep, and the surrounding flowering trees swayed gently in the breeze, their reflections shimmering across the rippling surface of the lake.
The man was sprawled languidly in the rattan chair. He wore no tie, and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone, lending him an indolent air.
A suit usually created a cold, ascetic aura, but on his broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted frame, it exuded a sense of power and raw sensuality.
Was it a good view?
The answer was obvious.
His long, narrow eyes swept over her, his dark pupils tinged with indifference.
Lianne didn't want to explain herself and prepared to leave. "Sorry, I won't disturb you. I'll just…"
