Chapter 162

He heard a noise.

The man lifted his gaze, dark and intense, settling it on Isadora.

She'd just stepped out of the shower, her skin still dewy with lingering warmth. The loose robe slipped over her shoulders, revealing a hint of delicate collarbone and the gentle curve of her neck. Her legs, long and smooth, caught the soft light, her bare feet pale against the polished wood, toes blushing faintly pink.

Victor's eyes darkened, a sly curve appearing at the edge of his lips. "You like to draw?"

Isadora avoided his burning stare, her voice carefully neutral. "Just flipping through some magazines. What are you doing here?"

Victor closed the magazine with a slow, deliberate snap and set it on the table. He watched her with a lazy sort of confidence. "What, am I not welcome?"

She crossed to her writing desk, slipping a folder discreetly into a drawer. But before she could move away, Victor crossed the room in two strides. He boxed her in, hands braced on either side, his head resting with casual familiarity on her shoulder. The scent of her skin and the soft hint of gardenia from her bath mingled in the air between them.

Isadora reflexively tensed.

Victor arched a brow, his handsome features teasing. "One day apart and your body forgets who I am already?"

dropped her gaze.

night,

desk

set of her shoulders. In one swift motion, he

stumbled into

fingers idly toying with a lock of her damp hair. His hand traced her collarbone, occasionally brushing against the

to push him away, but her

and brushed his hand aside.

fingers pressing into her soft cheek. "What's

just...

chuckle, lips curving. "Who said I

chest. She'd never been one to leave things unresolved, but the words she needed

said, slipping from his lap and heading to the fridge. She grabbed a cold

her phone lit

unsaved number flashed on the screen: *Isadora,

His expression darkened instantly.

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