Chapter 12 Her Bold Stand

Violet wasn't the only one left speechless. Wesley Merritt wore an expression of surprise, his pupils dilating. A man who had always kept women at a distance and remained untouched by desire, he now found himself unable to look away. "You, I—" Violet spun around and bolted into the bathroom. "Bang—" The door slammed shut with a heavy thud. Silence settled in the room, though neither heart was still. Back pressed against the cold door, Violet used its chill to soothe the heat in her cheeks. Her breath came in quick waves, her face flushed. Outside, Wesley stared unblinkingly at the bathroom door, frozen in place, still seated as before. They remained locked in this standoff until Violet finally broke the silence. She tapped lightly on the door. "Ahem—Are you still out there?" Wesley rose to his feet. "I'll go out now." "You don't have to." At her words, Wesley halted mid-step. A flicker of anticipation stirred within him. He lifted his gaze, locking it on the bathroom door. She said he didn't have to leave—did she mean for him to stay? What did she intend? Could it be, as Oscar once claimed, that she'd harbored designs on him from the start, her intentions anything but pure? If so… perhaps he needn't leave tonight. Perhaps he could stay and see whether she'd finally show her true colors. Even as the thought formed, Violet's voice came again. "Pass me the pajamas on the bed. I forgot to take them in." Wesley glanced at the bed, his brows drawing together. She'd asked him to stay—only to hand her pajamas? The glimmer of hope in his eyes faded instantly. After a two-second pause, Wesley picked up the pajamas and approached the door. "Here." The moment he spoke, the door slowly opened from within. Then a smooth, porcelain-white arm reached out. Wesley's chest rose sharply, his breath catching for a moment. Only after the hand took the clothes and the door closed again did he slowly regain his composure. When Violet emerged, dressed in her pajamas, she found Wesley still seated on her bed. "Mr. President Merritt," she said, "isn't it improper to enter someone's room without knocking?" Wesley's gaze swept over her, subtle and unreadable, before he replied coolly, "I knocked. No one answered." "So you just pushed the door open?" Violet arched an eyebrow. "The door wasn't closed." Not closed? Violet glanced at the door. She remembered closing it. Had it failed to latch? "And I didn't expect you to come out like that," Wesley added. "You—" The memory made her temples throb. "Do you feel wronged?" he asked. "What do you think? I've never been seen by another man in my life!" she snapped. At her words, Wesley's pupils lit up with a subtle glint. Then, cautiously, he asked, "You and your fiancé were practically married. You never...?" Before he could finish, Violet cut him off. "Mr. President Merritt, did you come here tonight just to mock me? Yes, I admit it—I'm not as bold as Evelyn Conrad, nor do I have her cunning. If I had even a tenth of her audacity, I'd already have children—no, grandchildren—with my ex-fiancé." So they truly hadn't... Beneath his sleeve, Wesley's fingers curled slightly in quiet satisfaction. A ghost of a smile flickered at the corner of his lips—there and gone, unseen by anyone. "Now that you've had your laugh," Violet said sharply, "can you please leave?" Honestly, if it weren't for the purpose she had to fulfill, she'd have stormed over and thrown him out. Having lived two lifetimes without any intimacy with the opposite sex, she'd just been seen completely by a man. The more she thought about it, the angrier she grew. Just as Violet fumed, Wesley raised his hand, removed his suit jacket, and began unbuttoning his shirt. The sight stunned Violet. Her wide eyes widened further. "You—what are you doing?" Wesley's gaze remained calm, his voice low and smooth. "You said you felt wronged. I'll let you look back."