HER FACE, MY WIFE'S SHADOW

Chapter 26: In His Room

Aria's POV

Curiosity instantly took over as I gently stepped inside. The room was massively elegant.

My eyes widened.

Wow.

I never knew he was so neat.

Coming closer, I allowed my eyeballs to wander. The large king-size bed sat against a far wall, dressed in crisp white bedding. A luxurious brown leather headboard stretched behind it. Near the center of the room stood a circular coffee table accompanied by a sophisticated seating area.

Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined one wall, filled with books arranged with precision. A large television hung opposite the bed. Warm lighting from a floor lamp softened the room's masculine atmosphere.

Glass doors opened onto a private balcony overlooking the estate grounds. Everything reflected Alexander perfectly.

There was another door leading to what appeared to be a dressing room. Rows upon rows of custom glass wardrobes filled the space. Each section had its own category—suits, shirts, trousers, ties, casual wear, caps, T-shirts, shoes, and sneakers. Everything was arranged by colors and style.

It seemed more like a boutique than a wardrobe.

I quietly went back into the bedroom; my eyes continued roaming around the room until they landed on a photograph sitting on a bedside table.

I walked over, my fingers brushing the frame before lifting it. It was a picture of Alexander and Isabella.

They looked so happy together. They didn't seem like they were forced into marriage.

His arm was placed around her waist while she smiled brightly at the camera. For a moment, they acted like the perfect couple.

The kind people envied and wished they could become.

I found myself staring at Isabella’s face.

Without warning, the bathroom door opened widely.

My breath caught as I quickly turned my head, seeing Alexander coming out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a white towel secured low around his waist.

Water droplets slid down his broad shoulders and sculpted chest. His hair was slightly messy, strands falling over his forehead.

The sight of his defined muscles was perfectly carved and made my throat go dry.

For several seconds, neither of us moved or spoke as our eyes locked.

Oh no.

Had he been in the bathroom this entire time?

I stood rooted to the ground; my brain stopped functioning.

My eyes betrayed me and helplessly traced down past his chest to his waist before I rapidly forced them back up again.

This wasn't the first time I'd seen a man half-dressed—as an architect, I'd been around plenty of rough-and-tumble construction sites, but this was different. Dangerously different. The men I’d seen before couldn't hold a candle to him. Seeing Alexander this close was utterly captivating.

My knee grew weak, and I had to shift my weight to keep from stumbling. I quickly set the picture frame back onto the table, my palm brushing against my forehead to wipe away a sudden layer of sweat.

What is happening to me? Why did the room feel so hot when two air-conditioners were humming?

My pulse thundered in my ears, every nerve in my body acutely aware of the man standing only inches away.

He remained completely still, watching me intensely.

“Well… I… I came here to… to ask you…” I stammered, the words dissolving in my throat.

He took a slow step forward, and I instinctively retreated a step.

“Look here, Mr. Sterling, this is not what you think. I had no idea you were in the bathroom. I thought you were actually asleep.”

“Is that so?” He murmured, closing the remaining distance between us with ease. He was so close that a stray drop of water fell from his hair, splashing on my cheek, just as my back hit the wall.

The scent of his soap washed over my senses—a reckless urge flared within me—I wanted nothing more than to go into his arms and breathe in that intoxicating scent until my mind went quiet.

Shaking my head, I snapped myself back to reality.

Compose yourself, Aria. He is another woman's husband, no matter how perfectly your face matches hers.

"Mr. Sterling, please, can you move aside? You're wet and dripping water over…” My words cut off mid-sentence as he leaned in, his lips stopping a mere millimeter from mine.

I gripped the fabric of my pajama pants tightly, pinning my gaze onto his. My chest rose and fell in gasps, my lips trembling.

His hand rose slowly, hovering near my face. I braced myself, closing my eyes and preparing to push him away with every ounce of strength I possessed. Instead, I heard the faint rustle of fabric.