Page 18 of Captain's Claim

But Iseeit.

She flicks her gaze up. Too quickly, too deliberately. Like she’s trying to pretend she wasn’t looking. Like shewasn’tjust ogling me, standing half-naked in a hallway dripping wet.

I shift slightly, adjusting my stance and the knot at my waist loosens. Not a lot. Just a fraction.

Enough so the trail of water droplets slide down my abs, hit the hard planes of the V that's teasing Ms. Hart's eyes right now, dragging them lower, lower, lower…

Her long, dark lashes flicker, the faintest hitch in her breath. Her lips part, ever so slightly, before she clamps them shut again.

A slow, lazy smirk tugs at my lips.

Because fuck… does she hate that she's noticed.

"What the hell are you doing here, Hart?" My voice is rough, edged with a mix of amusement and lingering frustration from last night's game. "I hope you're just here for the view."

Her chin jerks up, sharp and fast, her shoulders squaring like she’s gearing up for battle. But there it is… that soft, telltale flush that creeps up her neck.

The one I want to chase with my mouth.

Jesus. Fuck.No.

I take a step forward. Just enough that the heat rolling off me, the leftover steam clinging to my skin, brushes against her.

She inhales, just barely, like she’s trying not to notice. But shedoes.

I see the way her fingers twitch, like she’s physically restraining herself from adjusting her blouse.

"Trust me, Maddox," she snaps, arms crossing tight over her chest like she can physically block out the last five seconds. "If I wanted a view, I'd pick one with lessattitude."

I huff out a laugh. "And yet, here you are… standing outside the steam room like a goddamn stalker."

"Am not-" She exhales sharply, cutting herself off, rolling her shoulders back like she's shaking me off.

I drag my gaze down, taking in her outfit despite my better judgment.

She's wearing one of those fitted blazers that's probably supposed to look professional, but the deep burgundy color against her skin makes my mouth go dry. The silk blouse underneath is cream-colored, and with her arms crossed like that...

Fuck.

The way she's standing, all defensive and irritated, pushes her breasts together, creating a shadow of cleavage that I absolutely shouldn't be noticing.

But I am. Because I'm an idiot who can't keep his eyes where they belong.

"My eyes are up here,Captain." She spits my title like it's poison.

"Just trying to figure out if you dressed up special for our little hallway encounter." I force my gaze back to her face, hating that I'm affected by her at all. "The blazer's new."

Her eyes narrow. "Do you always keep inventory of what women wear?"

"Only the ones who show up uninvited in my locker room." I adjust my towel, noting how her gaze drops again beforesnapping back up. "So what's the real reason you're here, Sophia? Because we both know it's not for my charming personality."

"I-uh, I…" Her eyes drop to her shoes. "I just wanted to make sure you heard this from me, not someone else."

I don’t like the way that sounds.

The amusement fades just a little, my smirk tightening. "Heard what?"

She holds my gaze now, steady, unflinching.

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