Caroline’s POV
After Rowan left and the door clicked shut behind him, the silence was not comforting. It was heavy, as if the room itself were holding its breath.
For several minutes I just lay on my back, staring at the dark beams of the ceiling. My heart was still pounding hard against my ribs, not from fear, at least that was what I told myself, but from anger.
Or irritation.
Or from that confusing, burning heat his presence had left behind in the air, like some invisible electrical charge clinging to my skin.
“Just a problem,” I muttered quietly, repeating his words into the half-darkness, my voice scraping hoarsely off the walls. “Of course. And you’re just a walking ego with legs, a control freak wrapped in muscles.”
I tried to turn onto my side and braced myself for the pain.
