Joel Russo said in a low voice, holding her silky hair in his hand, "Just cover it up, let her see it but not live in it, it'll make her more uncomfortable."
Perhaps thinking of the frantic look on Rosy Roberts's face when she sees the villa, Arabella Vanderbilt couldn't help but laugh.
"You're truly the wicked one."
The hairdryer was turned off and set aside, Joel Russo sat by the bed and held her in his arms.
The woman who had just come out of the shower was wearing only a nightgown, her soft body seeming even more delicate and exquisite within the loose garment.
Her silky hair spread across her shoulders, partially covering her face, emitting a fresh, wet fragrance that tingled his senses, arousing an instant impulse.
"How am I wicked?" His deep voice sounded, his dark eyes fixed on her, a faintly captivating emotion emanating from their depths.
Arabella's heart tightened, her body involuntarily softened.
"Devious. I just misspoke, it should have been devious."
