Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 291

"No one else around, can we talk now?" Sylvia gasped, glaring at Rupert.

Even in her anger, she was captivating. Her eyes, like smoldering embers, were misty with unshed tears. Her lashes fluttered, and the look she gave was enough to make anyone's heart race.

Her damp shirt clung to her skin, leaving just enough to the imagination, testing Rupert's self-control to its limits.

Rupert's eyes darkened, his hands clenched into fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Finally, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tossed a dry towel her way.

"Cover up," he said gruffly.

Sylvia hesitated, unable to read the man in front of her. But she didn't have the luxury of pondering. All she wanted was to cover herself up quickly.

Just as she pulled the towel around her, there was a sudden ripping sound in the silence. Her well-worn bra, strained by her movements, had snapped. Right in front of Rupert.

She quickly draped the towel over her body and even her head.

Rupert coughed, his voice hoarse, his fists still clenched, his fingers tingling with the memory of her warmth. He thought to himself that he should not have held back.

...

The car pulled up to Sylvia's apartment building. Orson, the driver, made a move to get out and open the door, but Rupert stopped him.

"Grab the spare clothes from the trunk."

"Yes, sir."

Orson quickly retrieved the clothes and handed them to Rupert through the car door. Standing outside, he glanced at the sky and muttered to himself, "Does he really have to act like she's guarding against a wolf? It's a bit insulting."