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Ynda returned ton’s room and found him struggling to apply spray medication to his own back.
She closed the door, removed her mask and hat, and set them on a shelf. When he saw her, he wentpletely still.
Without a word, she took the bottle from his hand, sprayed the medicine evenly across his back, and remembered it needed to be rubbed in.
<b>After </b>a brief hesitation, sheid her fingers gently against his skin, and ler shuddered faintly at once. Then she began to massage,
His muscles were solid and defined <b>beneath </b>her touch. She could feel their tension as she worked the medicine in. When she was done, Ynda quickly made her way to the bathroom to wash her hands.
The bathroom was tiny, so cramped she could barely move. Bending over the sink, she squeezed soap into her palms and scrubbed thoroughly.
Then the door opened. Ian filled the doorway, tall and broad, stepping inside without a word.
Ynda froze, and then hurriedly ducked her head to rinse <b>the </b>soap away, anxious to be done and out of
there.
But he was blocking the exit. Slowly, he turned the faucet on. The sound of rushing water brought back memories of that stormy day. <fna479> This text is hosted at findnovel</fna479>
He wet his hands, but skipped the soap. Instead, he took her hand and gathered some of the suds from her <b>own</b>. Thick, slick foam coated their skin. She could feel tiny bubbles bursting between their fingers with faint. soft pops.
She nced up and caught his eyes in the mirror. He wasn’t looking at her. Instead, he just looked down at their hands, rubbing them together quietly.
Trapped, with no way out, <b>Ynda </b>cranked the water back on full force and tried to wash the tension away.
The air was thick with unspoken words, heavy like soap suds. She couldn’t stand it. She had <b>never </b>felt anything this <b>tense</b><b>, </b><b>not </b>even with Charles.
Eventually,n rinsed off. But he still didn’t move.
Ynda’s fingers curled tightly at her sides. She turned sideways, voice tight with a panic she didn’t quite understand. “Move. I need to get out.”
He didn’t budge.
She kept her head down, too nervous to meet his eyes, her eyshes fluttering like trapped wings.
She had <b>grown </b>up in the gilded cage of the Grant family <b>since </b>she was ten. She was always proper and shielded, her world a curated collection of polished people and impable manners.
7:44 Thu, Sep 11
But here, in this cramped bathroom, something raw and unfamiliar stirred deep within her.
It was <b>in </b>that moment she suddenly understood why someone as relined <b>as </b>Charles would seek thrills in a grimy alley. People could be foolish that way. The thrill of the new was a potent temptation.
Just when she was certain Ian would say something, he simply moved aside. The intensity in his posture dissolved as quickly as it had appeared. A silent sigh of relief escaped her.
The space was too narrow. As he turned to let her pass, the rough fabric of his clothes brushed against hers. The brief contact sent a shiver through her.
<b>And </b>once she was free of the bathroom, a sudden weakness washed over her. But it was also a strange,forting warmth <b>that </b>lingered in her chest.
Trying <b>to </b>regain herposure, she bent to organize the medicine on the table. “You’ll need theseter,” she <b>said</b>. “Wayne won’t be a problem anymore. I spoke with the director. In <b>two </b>weeks, you’ll go back to Beloris and shoot that coffee endorsement.
From the bathroom, his voice was low. “Yeah.”
Her throat felt parched, as if all the moisture had been leeched from her body. She grabbed a cup from the table and took arge gulp. I’m leaving <b>now</b>. If something like this happens again, call me immediately. Ian, don’t let this happen again<b>.</b>”
“Yeah.” His agreement was quiet, almost absent, and she couldn’t tell if he was really listening.
Ynda had said all there was to say. The drive back would take more than five hours; she wouldn’t be home until well past 10 p.m.
Even though she’d told Charles in a fury <b>that </b>she wasn’t going back, the thought of facing another humiliating inspection was even worse.
She opened the door to leave, but arms wrapped tightly around her waist, firm and unyielding-
Ynda froze, her grip tightening on the doorknob. She lowered her gaze to the hands locked around her. They were long and graceful, with pronounced knuckles she recognized instantly.
Her <b>back </b>was flush againstn’s chest. She could feel the intense heat radiating from him. There was a rawness to his strength, something held tightly in check, and it unnerved her in a way she couldn’t name.
Slowly, she raised her own hands and began prying his fingers loose, one by one. “Focus on your filming.” she said, her voice quieter than she intended.
He didn’t respond, didn’t fight her. He just watched, silent and tense, as the door finally swung open–and then closed between them.
<b>Ynda </b>got into her car and drove off without looking back. Halfway home, a burst of spring flowers caught her eye along the roadside.
She pulled over, hands still clenched on the steering wheel. Drawing a shaky breath, she rubbed her face <b>as </b><b>if </b>she could wipe away the tangled thoughts. Then, shaking her head clear, she put the car <b>back </b>in gear and
7:44 Thu, Sep 11
continued on.
The four–hour round trip on winding mountain roads had left her car spattered with mud, the wheels and undercarriage caked in dirt. Instead of heading straight back to Moonbay Estate, she detoured to a car wash.
It was past eleven by the time she finally pulled into the courtyard. Normally, she’d have been asleep by now -her routine was strict: up at six a.m., lights out by ten pam.
As the engine quicted<b>, </b>her phone buzzed with a message from Seam: [Wayne got reced. Was that you? Word is his backer is furious and dropped himpletely.J
Ynda let out a quiet snort. Men like Wayne, who started bullying people the second they got a linle power,
neversted.
Besides, Rachael had never been his biggest fan. The way she’d looked at Charles that day was <b>pure</b>,
unguarded admiration. Maybe it was love. Charles, however, was heartless; he kept love and sex inpletely separate boxes.
She typed back: [Just a small nudge. Is there a new lead?]
Sam’s reply <b>was </b>almost immediate: [Yes, and they’re reworking <b>the </b>script. The old one was built entirely around Wayne to push him. A new version could actually make the <b>show </b>better.]
Ian caught <b>a </b>lucky break, Ynda replied. A hit show can make a lot of people famous.
A faint smile touched her lips as she was about to type another message, but a familiar prickle ran down her spine the unmistakable feeling of being watched. She looked up. There, standing on the second–floor balcony, was Charles.
Charles held a cigarette between his fingers, the breeze ruffling his hair. “Sweetheart, you’rete.”
Ynda’s heart gave a nervous flutter. Trying to sound casual, she asked, “No overtime today?”
He stubbed out the cigarette. I’ve been home on time all week.
Actually, she hadn’t noticed. After all, she’d moved into the bedroom <b>at </b>the far end of the hall.
He leaned against the doorframe, studying her with azy tilt of his head. “I dropped by your studio earlier. The interior looks <b>good</b>.”
Her grip tightened around her phone. ‘Why did Charles go to my studio? He’s never shown any interest in me before. This feels off. If he starts paying attention now, he might find out I’m Tessa.