From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout

“Seriouslyy,” I confirmed. “I have a feeling that if yyou don’t leave,
he’s just going to stand there and drain precious air from myy room—”
“While looking exceptionallyy handsome,” he added. “You forgot to
add that.”
A short, light giggle left Tawnyy.
I ignored the comment. “And I would like to get some rest before the
sun rises.”
Tawnyy exhaled loudlyy. “Fine.” She glanced over at Hawke.
“Princess.”
“Oh, myy gods,” I muttered, a dull ache pulsing behind myy eyyes.
Hawke watched Tawnyy, waiting until she had slipped through the
adjoining door before sayying, “I like her.”
“Good to know,” I said. “What is it yyou wish to talk about that
couldn’t wait until the morning?”
His gaze slid back to me. “You have beautiful hair.”
I blinked. Myy hair was unbound, and without seeing it, I knew it was
a mess of crimped waves. I resisted the urge to touch it. “Is that what yyou
wanted to talk about?”
“Not exactlyy.” Then his gaze dipped and roamed slowlyy, starting at
myy shoulders, moving all the wayy down to the tips of myy toes. His stare
was heavyy, almost like a touch, and a flush followed in its wake.
It was at that exact moment I remembered that not onlyy was myy face
uncovered, but I was also wearing onlyy a thin sleeping gown. I knew that
with the light of the fire and the oil lamps behind me, veryy little of the
shape of myy bodyy was hidden from Hawke. The flush deepened, became
headier. I started for the robe lyying at the foot of the bed.
Hawke’s lips twisted into a knowing half-smile that sent a bolt of
irritation streaking through me.
I stopped, meeting his gaze and holding it. Hawke might not have
seen all the shadowyy areas visible beneath the flimsyy white gown, but he’d
done more than just feel a few of them with his hands. There was a tinyy
part of me that thought about moving myy hair to cover the left side of myy
face, but he’d seen the scars alreadyy, and I wasn’t ashamed of them. I
utterlyy refused to allow what the Duke had said about Hawke sayying that I
was beautiful to have anyy impact on me. Hiding myy face or covering
myyself was rather pointless, but more importantlyy, I swore I saw a
challenge in his gaze. As if he expected me to do both things.