For a long time, the only sound in the room was the synchronized, heavy thudding of two hearts and the distant, muffled sound of a television in the living room.
Julian eventually collapsed onto her, his weight a comforting pressure. He kissed her forehead, a surprisingly tender gesture that caught her off guard.
"You're a mess," he whispered, a smirk returning to his voice.
Beatrix let out a soft, breathless laugh, her fingers tracing the line of his spine. "And you're an arrogant brat."
"But I'm the brat who just made you scream," he reminded her.
Beatrix sighed, the adrenaline beginning to fade, leaving her feeling heavy and satisfied. But as she looked at the door, a new thought entered her mind. The danger had been the best part. The proximity of Arthur, the risk of being caught—
