Accidentally Yours
Chapter 45
Lola
The bath was warm. Soft–lit. Steam curling off her skin as she sat nestled between Enzo’s thighs, his arms lazily draped over the sides of the massive soaking tub like a smug Roman god.
Her knees floated just above the surface. His chin rested on her shoulder.
For once, neither of them said anything wild.
No biting.
No dares.
Just soft breaths. Wet skin. And the occasional drip of water echoing in the silence.
“You always this well–stocked or was this left from your last kidnapping?” she asked, eyes flicking to the fancy oils on the edge of the tub.
He nuzzled into her neck, voice low and smug. “I don’t bring conquests into my personal space, so these oils, that are in your sent, are new for you. Had the staff bring in a few things,” he said casually, brushing a thumb along her shoulder. “Figured you’d need something to help soothe those sore muscles after the chase.”
So thoughtful.
She rolled her eyes, but didn’t move. “Mmm so this was inevitable?”
He kissed just behind her ear. “Absolute.”
They towel–dried in playful silence–stealing glances, dodging each other’s hands. He handed her a plush black towel like it was some sort of peace treaty. She accepted it, only to flick him in the ass with the edge as he turned.
“Rude,” he muttered.
“Would Sir like another?” She playful shot back with one eyebrow slightly raised.
She wrapped the towel around herself and followed Enzo through the soft–lit hallway, her skin still tingling from the heat.
He moved ahead of her, damp and barefoot, silent in that way only dangerous men ever mastered. When he opened the double doors at the end of the hall, she expected storage.
What she got was a gut punch.
She stepped inside before she could think better of it. Then froze.
Hoodies. Tees. Her style of boots. Leggings folded exactly how she did it–ankles tucked, never rolled. A bottle of her perfume. Her favorite gloss. A new sketchpad still in plastic with brand new pencils right next to it.
The air left her lungs.
This wasn’t just close.
This was specific.
She blinked. “This is…
my stuff.”
1/3
Chapter 45
“Not all of it,” Enzo said behind her. “But close.”
Her voice was soft. Suspicious. “How?”
“When the crew came to fix your door yesterday,” he said, “I had someone take photos. Your closet. Counter. Drawer. Just enough to get it right.”
She turned toward him. “So you staged a replica of my life… for fun?”
“No,” he said. “For you.”
Of course he did.
“You guessed all my sizes?”
“I didn’t guess.”
He didn’t even blink. “I’ve had my hands on you.”
She looked around again, slower this time–at the boots, the gloss, the sketchpad waiting on the shelf.
The word whispered across her brain like a memory. That moment in the tub, half–joking, skin–warm, walls down
“So this was inevitable?”
“Absolute.”
And here he is. Proving it.
She blinked quickly and looked away, trying to hide whatever was flickering across her face. “You really did all this… before you even knew if I was staying.”
“I’ve never done this before.”
She paused. “The closet?”
He motioned loosely between them. “This.”
She stared at him, unsure how to process the weight in his voice.
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