That night, Vivienne stepped through the door just as Cyrus was strolling out of the bathroom, looking all casual in his loose bathrobe.

The collar hung open, teasing the eye with a glimpse of his chiseled chest and those tantalizing Adonis lines.

Droplets of water from his hair traced a path down his torso, disappearing into the shadows at his waist, exuding a raw, wild charm.

"Back already?" Cyrus glanced her way, his tone as light as a feather. "Did you get grandma home ...