Fraser, clad in little more than a large beige towel around his waist, seems finally to be entirely unconcerned with his state of undress around her in something other than an extremely intimate capacity. It was an odd paradox to begin with; but Fraser is a man with many such complex paradoxes.
He glances at the comb in her hand, then meets her gaze with a reserved smile before he accepts it, moving to stand behind her.