365 Days with Sexy Maia

Chapter 8

Rosianna pushed open the door and walked in, inhaling deeply. She could already feel the shift in the air; another presence had been there. She sighed heavily and tossed her bag onto the four-seater sofa in the living room, her eyes scanning the space. It was still as sparse as she’d left it, yet it felt as though he had already claimed it—his presence lingering even in her absence.

Grateful to find her room untouched, she sighed with relief. As she looked around, a pang of regret surfaced. She should have furnished the entire place by now. Assigning him to shop for the rest of the items seemed unnecessary, and perhaps, she thought, they could have used the opportunity to spend time together—time to learn more about each other. Oh well, there was no undoing it now.

She slipped out of the wedding dress and quietly folded it into another wardrobe. The dry cleaner would collect it the next day and return it to the store she had rented it from. Wearing it all day had never been her intention, but it had been her only option in a rushed moment. No one else knew that, though. Let them draw their own conclusions.

Exhausted from the day’s activities, she turned on the bathtub faucet and sank into the warm water. A soft moan escaped her lips as the heat soothed her aching muscles. This was all she wanted. She could stay in this moment forever.

Half an hour later, Nathan came through the front door, arms full of items he had bought at a nearby mall. He hadn’t needed much—thankfully, she’d been practical enough to furnish the house with essential furniture. All he needed were toiletries, buckets, and food to stock the kitchen before they risked starving. He imagined she rarely cooked and probably had servants at her beck and call. Still, when he first arrived, the house had felt eerily devoid of life.

Quietly, he began hanging things on the walls to make the space feel more like home.

She wasn’t home yet, and while his bedroom was now set up, his bathroom was still a mess. Cleaning it would take time he didn’t have. It was late, and all Nathan wanted was a shower. Her bathroom seemed like the best option—it wasn’t as if she’d notice. After all, she’d only arranged her room and ignored the rest of the house.

With that thought, Nathan pulled off his clothes, slung a towel over his shoulders, and marched into her room. He didn’t notice the clothing scattered across her bed. When he threw open the bathroom door, he froze.

Rosianna had dozed off in the bathtub, but the sound startled her awake. Groggy and cold from the water that had gone lukewarm, she turned her head. Their eyes met, and time seemed to stand still. Slowly, her gaze traveled down his body, still half-asleep.

Realization hit. The room temperature shifted from cold to sizzling hot.

She screamed.

“Get out!” Rosianna shrieked. “Oh my gosh, are you kidding me?!”

“I didn’t know you were home!” Nathan stammered, turning away. “I’m sorry! I just wanted to use the bathroom.”

Mortified, she caught herself staring at his retreating form and snapped her head forward, cheeks flaming. He had a nice rounded butt and his back muscles seemed to expand further and further. She could feel herself feeling hot under the cold water, and this was more embarrassing than anything she’d ever experienced—that he made her feel this way.

Nathan bolted to his room, his face hot. He had picked the furthest room in the house and it still didn’t feel far enough. Never had he been so rattled by a naked woman, and he had seen lots of naked women in his line of work. He quickly turned on the cold shower in his room, completely disregarding the fact that he had wanted to clean out the bathroom before using.

"s**t," he muttered under the cold shower, his pulse still racing. This was almost too much for him to bear.

After his bath—and vowing to clean his own bathroom the next day—Nathan headed downstairs to make dinner. Starving, he craved nothing more than French toast and a few apples. He was halfway through preparing his meal when Rosianna emerged from her bedroom, her eyes scanning the kitchen cautiously.

The silence between them was palpable, heavy with unspoken words. The earlier incident lingered in the air, like an uninvited guest neither of them wanted to address. Nathan’s gaze flicked to her without meaning to. Her nightgown, light and barely concealing, clung to her curves in a way that made him swallow hard. He quickly looked away.

“Don’t you think you should dress more appropriately now that I’m around?” he asked, busying himself as he plated his food.

Rosianna leaned against the edge of the table, her expression challenging. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

Nathan frowned, genuinely taken aback. “Did what on purpose?”

“You barged into my bathroom on purpose,” she accused. “You knew I was there. You wanted to spy on me—and make me see you, too.”

He froze, her words settling uncomfortably in his chest. The disgust that churned in his stomach wasn’t aimed at her but at the absurdity of the accusation. He knew they barely knew each other, but did she really think so little of him?

Without a word, Nathan grabbed his plate and turned toward his room. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, princess. I’ll stay out of your way so you don’t get any more ideas.”

Rosianna rolled her eyes, letting out an exasperated breath as he brushed past her.

Nathan barely slept. The tension from earlier clung to him, echoing in his restless dreams. Sounds invaded his sleep—distant at first, then growing closer, more insistent. He tossed and turned until he couldn’t take it anymore.

He bolted upright in bed.

Rosianna was there, crouched at the foot of his bed, her face pale with pain.

Her eyes locked onto his, and he was instantly awake.