Chapter 14

Claire's POV I noticed the change in Theo immediately after he ended his phone call. As he returned to the driver's seat, his brows were deeply furrowed, fingers tapping anxiously against the steering wheel. The earlier heat between us had cooled, replaced by a distracted tension. "Is something wrong?" I asked tentatively, studying his profile. "Family matters," he replied, the vagueness of his answer creating a wall between us. His distant response left me feeling disappointed. After the way he'd defended me against Nicole, after the electricity that had sparked between us moments earlier, this sudden withdrawal stung more than it should have. At the hotel, Theo maintained a careful professional distance, showing me to the suite's bathroom with assurances that fresh clothes would arrive soon. The door clicked shut behind me, leaving me alone with my thoughts and a luxury bathroom larger than my entire apartment. The hot water felt like heaven as it washed away the sticky wine residue and the humiliation of Nicole's attack. But as the physical evidence disappeared down the drain, my thoughts remained turbulent. Theo's restraint when we were alone together touched something deep within me. This wasn't a man who took what he wanted without consideration. This was a mature man who knew the right thing to do, even when it contradicted his desires. His self-control, his principles—they only made me fall harder for him. After drying off, I stood before the full-length mirror, studying my reflection in the steamy glass. Droplets of water traced paths down my neck, between my breasts, across my stomach. I probably wasn't extraordinarily beautiful—certainly not compared to the high-society she-wolves like Nicole—but I knew Theo was physically attracted to me. The evidence had been unmistakable in the car. If that phone call hadn't interrupted us, I was certain we would have made love already. But after arriving at the hotel, he had turned so cold, so distant. Jennifer's words echoed in my mind: *"You could always seduce him."* My heart pounded against my ribs as I made my decision. Even a one-night stand with Theo would be worth whatever consequences followed. I was tired of always being the good girl, always ending up hurt and alone. Taking a deep breath, I moved toward the shower, deliberately knocked over a bottle of shampoo, and let out a piercing scream as I lowered myself to the floor. The door burst open almost immediately. Theo stood framed in the doorway, panic etched across his features. His eyes widened as they registered my naked form on the bathroom tiles, water from the still-running shower creating rivulets across my bare skin. His gaze darkened instantly, pupils expanding until only a thin ring of gray remained. For one breathless moment, he froze, his eyes traveling over every inch of me with such intensity I could almost feel it as a physical touch. "Are you hurt?" he finally managed, his voice rough and strained. I made a show of wincing as I tried to sit up. "I slipped," I lied, extending my hand to him. "Could you help me up?" His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. With evident reluctance, he stepped forward, reaching for my hand. But I shifted slightly, causing his gaze to involuntarily sweep over my body again. "Theo," I whispered, deliberately using his first name. I didn't let go of his hand once I was sitting up. Instead, I tugged gently, encouraging him closer. The struggle playing across his features was fascinating—desire warring with restraint, need battling principle. His breath came faster, his powerful body radiating heat. "This isn't appropriate," he said hoarsely, but he didn't pull away. "I don't care about appropriate," I replied, shifting to my knees before him. "I want you." His jaw clenched, muscles working beneath his skin. "You don't know what you're asking for." "I do." I rose higher on my knees, bringing my face closer to his. "I've thought about this since that night at the bar. Haven't you?" I could see his control fraying. His hands twitched at his sides, his breathing uneven. The evidence of his arousal was unmistakable through his pants, and the knowledge that I affected him so powerfully sent a thrill through me. "Claire," he groaned, my name sounding like both a prayer and a curse. "We can't." "Why not?" I challenged, boldly reaching for his hand and placing it on my bare shoulder. "Give me one reason that matters right now." For a moment, I thought I'd won. His pupils were blown wide, his breathing ragged, his hand on my shoulder tensing as if preparing to slide lower. Then, with evident effort, he withdrew his hand and stepped back. "Because I respect you too much to take advantage," he said, his voice strained but firm. He reached for a towel and held it out to me, deliberately looking away. The rejection, however kindly delivered, scalded like boiling water. Humiliation rushed through me, hot and painful. Even with me literally naked and willing before him, he still refused to touch me. Was it as Nicole had suggested—that I wasn't good enough? Not Alpha enough? Watching him restrain himself, seeing the rejection in his eyes even as his body clearly wanted me, was utterly humiliating. Every word Nicole had spoken at the restaurant echoed back—that I was just a charity case, that someone like Theo would never truly want someone like me. Pride forced me to my feet. I snatched the towel from his hands and wrapped it around myself, creating a barrier between my vulnerability and his restraint. I hurriedly dressed in the clothes he'd provided, ignoring his attempts to stop me as I headed for the door. I couldn't bear to be in his presence for another second, not with the sting of rejection burning through me. "Claire, wait—" I heard him call as I rushed out, but I didn't slow down. Back at my apartment, I finally allowed myself to break. The tears came hot and fast, humiliation and hurt pouring out in uncontrollable sobs that shook my entire body. I cried until my throat was raw and my eyes swollen, curled up on my bed still wearing the clothes he'd provided. His scent, faint but unmistakable, clung to the fabric, a cruel reminder of what I had offered and what had been refused.