Revenge Wears My Ring novel Chapter 7

Bennett stepped out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a bathrobe, damp hair falling messily over his brow. Even like this, he radiated an undeniable, almost electric sensuality.

Droplets of water traced down his bare collarbone, each one triggering flashes of memory in her mind.

In an instant, Gwyneth remembered last night: the way he pressed her down, his movements insistent, the heat of his body as beads of sweat slid from his skin onto her shoulder. Even after a night’s distance, the fire he’d ignited in her hadn’t cooled one bit.

His body was something out of a sculptor’s dream—just the right balance between rugged and lean, muscles defined but not overdone.

God. What was she even thinking?

Face burning, Gwyneth dropped her gaze, suddenly feeling guilty.

Bennett nonchalantly rubbed the towel over his hair, then glanced at her, voice low and tinged with a teasing edge. “What do you need the money for?”

She’d meant to test his character, to see what kind of man he really was, but that simple question somehow made her feel as if she’d done something shameful.

And who was Bennett, anyway? A man like him—someone who clearly saw their night together as nothing more than a bit of fun—how could she have ever imagined he’d want anything more?

Honestly, what was wrong with her? Was she really so reckless, up for anything, blind to the obvious?

She scrambled for an excuse, voice faltering. “Uh… it’s for your cigarettes. You, um, worked hard last night.”

Even as she spoke, Bennett closed the distance between them.

Gwyneth’s nerves were stretched thin.

“Did you enjoy it?”

His raspy voice seemed to slice right through her, making her catch her breath. Was he really asking her that?

“I, um…”

She figured she must have enjoyed it—right?

“So, this is your way of tipping me for a job well done?” His low, sexy tone made her cheeks burn even hotter.

How was she supposed to answer that?

The money in her palm suddenly felt like it was on fire.

Just three words, but his tone brooked no argument.

Stunned, Gwyneth turned back to face him. He was already fully dressed, two buttons undone on his white shirt, looking impossibly handsome and somehow both seductive and pristine.

She forced herself to focus.

Sure, she wanted to marry—to take over her parents’ company without scandal—but she’d never imagined marrying someone like Bennett.

She tried to let him down gently. “Last night was just… a bit of fun. We don’t need to make a big deal out of it.”

Bennett fastened his tie, looking down at her with a steady, unreadable gaze, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “I take things seriously, Gwyneth. Besides…”

His eyes flicked to the cash on the bedside table, then back to her lips, gaze unwavering. “Last night was my first time. A bit of cigarette money doesn’t quite cover that.”

Gwyneth stared at him, speechless.

As if, she thought. Like you’re the only one.

Bennett arched a brow. “It’s a matter of principle.”