Beneath the heat

Chapter Seven: The Morning After

Sasha woke tangled in linen sheets and confusion.

Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting golden light over the villa’s polished floors. Her body was sore in the best possible way. Her skin still hummed with the memory of Julian’s hands, his mouth, the sound of his voice in the dark.

But the space beside her in bed was empty.

For a moment, panic stabbed through her.

Then she heard movement from the kitchen.

Julian stood at the counter, shirtless, barefoot, humming to himself as he poured coffee. When he turned and saw her watching, he smiled.

"Morning, boss."

She pulled the sheets higher. "You make a habit of cooking in women’s villas?"

He brought her a mug, setting it gently on the bedside table. “Only the ones who make me forget my name.”

She hated how easy he made her smile.

And she hated how much she wanted to reach for him again.

Instead, she sipped the coffee. "We should talk about last night."

Julian sat at the edge of the bed, brushing his thumb lightly over her ankle. “Sure. Let’s talk.”

“It can’t happen again.”

His expression didn’t change, but something in his eyes shuttered. “Because?”

“Because I’m here for work. Because your brother’s wedding needs to be flawless. Because I don’t mix business with—”

“Pleasure?” he finished.

Sasha’s cheeks flushed.

Julian nodded slowly. “Alright. Just tell me one thing.”

“What?”

His voice dropped. “Did it feel like just pleasure to you?”

She didn’t answer.

Because the truth terrified her.