Chapter 205

The downpour raged outside as Vivian Laurent stood at the hotel front desk, her fingertips absently tracing the edge of the keycard.

The young couple kept thanking her. She forced a thin smile in response.

The words "King Bed" glared up at her from the plastic card.

Ethan Roscente stood behind her, his soaked shirt clinging to his sculpted back, revealing every taut muscle beneath.

"The storm's too heavy," he murmured, his voice carrying the chill of rainwater.

Vivian clenched her fists, nails biting into her palms.

The shower hissed behind the bathroom door.

She checked the lock three times before daring to peel off her drenched dress.

Hot water cascaded over her skin but did nothing to wash away the unease coiling in her chest.

"Ethan?" she called through the cracked door, droplets falling from her hair.

The rustle of fabric answered from outside.

"Front desk said they're out of spare clothes," his voice came out rougher than usual.

She bit her lower lip, fingers twisting the towel until the fabric wrinkled.

The mirror reflected her flushed cheeks and water droplets clinging to her collarbone.

Taking a deep breath, she hitched the towel higher.

"Don't turn around."

His footsteps were soundless on the plush carpet.

Ethan's broad back faced her like an unyielding wall, his shoulders rigid with tension.

Yet his peripheral vision caught the flash of pale calves as she moved.

The sheets whispered as she settled onto the bed.

His throat went dry. Knuckles whitened with unconscious pressure.

Unwanted memories surged—that night flashing behind his eyelids.

Golden lamplight. Her wide, startled eyes like a frightened doe.

Now that same doe stood mere feet away, her warm fragrance curling around him.

Ethan loosened his collar. The room temperature seemed to spike suddenly.

Outside, the rain hammered harder against the windows.