A Caged Songbird's Escape: Into the Arms of a Predator novel Chapter 186

A strange new feeling swept over Elissa, and she stopped resisting him. "B—brother," she whispered.

Her voice, soft and obedient beneath his kisses, made Rowan's hand at her waist tense, every line of muscle standing out, veins stark and taut beneath his skin.

"Ow!"

Elissa hadn't expected that the more she yielded, the rougher Rowan became.

That sudden, fierce grip—like he wanted to pull her right into himself.

But Rowan snapped back to his senses in a heartbeat. He loosened his hold, brushed a soothing kiss against her lips, his breath heavy and ragged. "Sorry. Did I hurt you?"

Yet as he stepped away, catching sight of her lashes wet from his kisses, he nearly lost control all over again.

"Shower," he muttered, throwing the word over his shoulder before striding out to the guest bathroom.

Elissa stared after him, momentarily stunned.

Did he mean… after the shower, they'd go to bed together?

The water in the tub was threatening to overflow. She jumped out, turned off the tap, and hesitated for a second. When it was clear Rowan wasn't coming back, she crossed the room and closed the bathroom door behind her.

Her toiletries were still right where she'd left them.

Only after soaking in the bath did she realize there was just one white towel hanging on the rack—no spares.

Rowan was a neat freak; she didn't dare touch anything of his without asking.

Stepping out of the tub, she padded to the door and cracked it open a sliver, calling out for help. "Rowan, is there another towel? If not, can you grab one from my place?"

"Use mine," came Rowan's reply as he approached, his voice low and rough. He slipped a nightdress through the gap in the door. "Wear this."

"Oh, okay."

The nightdress fell to just above her knees, her slim, pale legs bare beneath the hem. Fresh from the bath, her skin looked even more luminous.

"Go wait for me on the bed," Rowan said, then disappeared into the bathroom.

Elissa sat on the edge of the bed. He soon returned, a hairdryer in hand. The man who always seemed so distant was now quietly patient, blow-drying her hair himself.

His fingers drifted absently over her scalp, gentle yet unfamiliar.

But this wasn't the first time. She'd never liked drying her hair—when she was young, Rowan had done it for her.

Now, wearing another woman's nightdress, Elissa wondered if he'd ever done this for the dress's real owner.

When he finished, Rowan glanced at her, lost in thought. "Weren't you going to ask about Rex and your best friend?"

Elissa looked up at him, dodging the question. "Are we doing it tonight?"