Miranda’s POV
By the time we got back from the party, the night had fully crept in. The streets were empty, the moon dim, and I was exhausted.
My heels were killing me, and my dress, though glamorous, was becoming more suffocating by the minute. When I slouched into Damon’s car, I let out an exhausted sigh and shut my eyes as I rest my head on the car seat.
Damon glanced at the dashboard clock and exhaled.
“It’s too late to take you all the way home,” he said, as he ignited the car engine into action.
I faced him as he turned the car into a quiet neighborhood.
I blinked at him, confused. “What do you mean?”
He cast a quick glance at me, one corner of his lips curving up. “I mean, my place is closer. You should just spend the night.”
My eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
“Come on,” he chuckled. “We’re married, remember? It’s not like I’m asking you to do something scandalous.”
I stared out the window. “My parents wouldn’t like that. They don’t support sleepovers before the wedding ceremony.”
Damon laughed, a deep, genuine laugh. “Miranda, I’m not going to have sex with you. Relax.”
I turned my head sharply, cheeks warming with embarrassment. I wasn’t sure whether to slap him or hide under the seat.
“Unless,” he added with a mischievous glint in his eye, “you want to.”
I groaned and smacked his arm. “You’re impossible.”
He grinned and pulled out his phone. “Guess I’ll have to get permission then.”
“Damon!” I snapped. “Don’t you dare—”
He was already dialing with his right hand on the wheels and the other holding the phone.
“Good evening, Mrs. Stevens,” he said smoothly. “Yes, I know it’s late. I just wanted to check if it’s okay for Miranda to stay at my place tonight. The roads are pretty empty, and it’s not safe for her to head back alone.”
My eyes widened, and I spun around in my seat, mouth gaping. “Damon! Give me that phone!”
He held it away with a smug look, listening intently.
“Thank you, ma’am. You’re the best. Good night.”
He ended the call and grinned. “You see? All set.”
I folded my arms and glared at him. “I hope you sleep with one eye open tonight.”
“You wound me, darling.” He placed a hand dramatically on his chest and I laughed out loud before hitting his shoulder.
Few minutes later, we got to his place. As soon as the car was parked in the driveway, he turned to me. “Wait, mademoiselle, I’ll get the car door for you.”
Butterfly spring up inside of me as my heart fluttered.
He got the car door for me and I stepped out. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
We walked inside. Damon’s house was beautiful, sleek, modern, and far too clean for someone like him. It made me nervous.
“Make yourself at home,” he said, tossing his keys into a bowl on the counter.
I nodded and slipped off my heels, savoring the feeling of the cold marble under my sore feet. “I need a shower.”
“Of course,” he said. “My room’s got an ensuite bathroom. Towels are in the closet. I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”
I followed his direction and entered his bedroom. It was immaculate, with a huge bed, dark navy sheets, and faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air. I found the bathroom but there were no towels in the closet like he said.
Or I couldn’t find them. In my clothes, I stepped into the bathroom. Everything gleamed, glass, marble, chrome. I turned on the hot water, letting it steam up before stepping under the soothing spray.
Minutes later, mid-lather, the water sputtered. I blinked, confused, then shrieked when it cut off entirely.
“What? What happened?” Soapy foams were over my face. I used my hand to wipe it off so I could see.
I winced when my eyes stinged. But I got a better reason to panic. There are no towels to cover myself. And I doubt if I could call Damon from here.
“Damon!” I screamed. “What the hell? Damon!”
No answer.
I cursed under my breath. I hadn’t grabbed a towel before entering, stupidly thinking I’d just walk out and grab one after the shower. I peeked out of the bathroom. No one. I carefully tiptoed into the room, one arm across my chest, the other across my hips.
“I swear, if he set me up—”
The door burst open.
“Miranda, what’s going o—oh my god.”
We froze.
Damon stood at the door, eyes wide, frozen in place.
I shrieked. “Get out!”
30
