Chapter 33
That damn jerk!
Wasn't he downstairs chatting with her parents? How did he get up here so fast?
And she was pretty sure she'd locked the door-how the hell did he sneak in without making a sound?
Prescott's dark eyes sharpened. And seriously-this clueless woman was still standing there like a deer in headlights?
A cold glint flashed in Prescott's eyes...
Camila didn't stand a chance. Her head started spinning in no time, and just as she was about to run out of breath, Prescott finally, reluctantly, let go.
His eyes, now glazed with something deeper, locked onto hers. Because of the struggle, her towel had slipped a bit...
Prescott suddenly felt like his mouth had gone dry.
"I'm quite satisfied," he murmured in a low, raspy voice.
Camila, still dizzy, looked at him with dazed, glassy eyes. "Satisfied... with what?"
A beat later, she froze.
She glanced down-and saw the towel barely clinging to her. Color instantly exploded across her face, redder than a lobster on a summer beach.
"Ahhh! P

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