Madeline’s brows drew together, her whole expression radiating silent exasperation. There was just no talking sense into this man who always had to be in control. She shot Julian a flat, icy look that lasted a few seconds, then pressed her lips together and headed for the bathroom.
The door slammed shut with a sharp bang. A second later, Julian heard the lock click into place. So she was being careful now. Was she actually worried he’d peek at her? The idea was ridiculous. After three years of marriage, he’d seen every inch of her.
Julian took his time with a drag from his cigarette. He was just about to get up when his eyes drifted toward the bathroom. His heart skipped, catching him by surprise. Under the bright lights, her slender silhouette was traced perfectly on the frosted glass. She was slim, but every curve was in the right place.
His pulse quickened. Julian lifted an eyebrow and forced himself to look away, reaching for a glass of iced water. He drank it all at once, trying to smother the rising heat in his chest.
The room was quiet except for the sound of running water. As Julian’s gaze wandered, he spotted the shirt Madeline had tossed on the floor. He let out a low chuckle, lips curving with a hint of amusement.
Inside the bathroom, Madeline finished her quick shower. She reached for her clothes, then froze. The dry shirt Julian had handed her was still outside, forgotten. Seriously? She bit her lip in frustration, feeling a headache coming on. With no other choice, she wrapped a towel tightly around her chest, crept closer to the door, and wiped at the fogged glass.
She tried to see out, but everything was blurry. Madeline leaned against the wall for a minute, thinking, then grabbed the first thing she could use as a weapon—just in case. She cracked the door open a tiny bit and called out, “Julian?”
No answer. The silence stretched on.
She tried again, voice a little louder. “Julian, are you out there?”
Still nothing. Maybe he’d finally left.


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