Page 86 of The Heir's Bargain

But the better view was standing in front of me. The button-downs and suit jackets Fynn wore hid his muscular build well—too well. As Fynn stood shirtless, leaning against the doorframe, his pectorals flexed beneath his crossed arms.

Had he always leaned on things so much?

"The view, huh?" Fynn asked, forcing my gaze up.

And there was that stupid, cocky smirk on his face again, as if he knew he was attractive and knew I was ogling him. He must have overheard the thoughts of countless women commenting on how good-looking he was over the years.

I refused to be another one on that list, though.

"Are you done in there, princess?" I asked.

Fynn held out a hand, ushering me forward. "All yours, Ferrios."

I hurried into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me.

I quickly dipped my hands into the water basin and splashed the water onto my face, spreading it across the back of my neck. Gripping the sides of the bowl, I leaned over the basin and glared at myself in the mirror.

What am I doing?

Nothing good would come from gawking at Fynn. Yet I couldn't deny that I was, on some level, attracted to him.

Objectively speaking, Fynn was attractive. He was tall, muscular, smart.

And the way he kissed me? My legs still trembled.

But that kiss was only for show, I reminded myself again.

It might have felt real, but Fynn had plenty of practice over the years to be able to fake a kiss decently.

I grabbed a clean towel on the counter and dabbed the water off my face. The summer heat had turned my curls into a frizzy mess. After detangling them with wet fingers, I twisted my hair into a simple plait and let it hang loose down my back. Quickly stripping out of my dress, I changed. For once, I was thankful for my expensive taste in sleepwear. After wearing a uniform most days, loungewear was one of the few luxuries I allowed myself to indulge in. Slipping the simple black slip on, I inspected my reflection.

I groaned.

Good taste or not, if I had known I would share a room with Fynn, I would have picked something that offered more coverage. The slip’s neckline barely covered the tops of my breasts, and the hem barely reached the middle of my thighs.

My nails bit into my palms.

Then, something in the corner of the mirror caught my eye. Fynn's clothes were piled in the corner, discarded. I rushed over and picked up his shirt, holding it up. I rubbed the fabric between my fingertips.

With a groan, I dropped.

The fabric was too thick. At least the slip was light enough for the stifling summer heat. His shirt would be suffocating.

And his shirt smelled too much like him.

"Get it together, Dani. It's just one night," I whispered. "I can do one night."

With one final nod at myself, I picked up my belongings and left the bathing chambers.

A lit lantern sat on the bedside table, casting a golden hue across Fynn's features as he lay on the bed. His head was propped up on one of his hands as he held a book in his other hand.

"You brought a book?" I asked.

"You didn't?" Fynn asked, his attention glued to the book. His brows were scrunched together, and his eyes were slightly narrowed.

"I didn't expect to do any light reading," I said, fidgeting with the hem of my dress that kissed my thighs. If Fynn’s current behavior was any indication, I shouldn’t have been nervous. When it came to him, it didn't matter what I wore. And yet. . .

"What did you expect to do then?" Fynn asked, quirking a brow. He flipped to the next page, the page rubbing against his fingers.

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