Chapter 3

Evelyn's POV

I eased the door open and spotted a flat clothing box on the floor. Inside was a dress from a brand I'd never heard of. To my surprise, it was exactly my size and very much my style.

I stood frozen in the doorway for a couple of seconds. Then I noticed the shirt tucked underneath the skirt. It was a man's white shirt, cool to the touch and oversized enough to cover me almost entirely.

I stared at it, searching for a reasonable explanation.

A spare shirt. Every man probably kept an extra one in his hotel room. And as for the size, everything looked oversized on me anyway.

Repeating that explanation to myself actually made me feel a little better.

I gathered the clothes against my chest, stepped back into the room, and closed the door.

Water began running in the bathroom.

Then the cold hit me.

It poured over my head and traveled down my shoulders, back, and waist, reaching even the spaces between my toes.

Edward's showering. Every drop of water hitting him is hitting me, too.

There was nowhere in the room I could go to escape it.

I hurried to the bathroom door and pounded on it.

"Edward! Stop using your hands to wash yourself!"

The water stopped briefly.

"Then how exactly am I supposed to wash? Want to come in and show me?"

I dug a pink strawberry-shaped bath sponge out of my handbag and slipped it through the narrow gap beneath the door.

A hand reached out to take it. His skin was so pale that it caught me off guard.

I pressed the sponge into his palm and quickly pulled my hand away.

A moment later, his voice came through the door, sounding almost thoughtful.

"Twenty-eight years, and this is the strangest shower I've ever taken. Also the gentlest."

Hearing him say gentlest did nothing to make me smile.

By the time he stepped out in a bathrobe, I was already sitting on the bed.

The skirt fit perfectly, flattering my figure without being too tight. I'd tucked the slightly oversized men's shirt into it and rolled up the sleeves, giving the outfit a relaxed, casual look.

I gave him a look that practically begged him to do something about our situation.

Edward adjusted the collar of his robe. His gaze moved from my skirt to the rolled-up sleeves before settling on my face.

"What's wrong? Was my bathing technique not up to your standards?"

"Bring Arthur here," I said. "He's an ER doctor. He can examine me. There has to be something he can do."

Edward didn't respond immediately.

Instead, he walked over and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Are you prepared to tell him the whole story?" he asked evenly. "Including how you mistook me for him in the dark and threw yourself at me for a kiss?"

All the color drained from my face.

I had absolutely nothing to say.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to approach the problem logically.

The connection between us had started with that kiss. Maybe repeating the same action would somehow reverse it and restore things to normal.

With that thought in mind, I walked over, backed him against the door, and rose onto my toes.

Then, wearing an expression that suggested I was about to face my execution, I kissed him.

One kiss. Then I pulled away.

Next, I pinched his cheek to see if anything had changed.

I tried again.

And again.

After about ten attempts, the connection between us remained exactly as it had been.

Edward finally pushed me away. His expression suggested he was struggling between exasperation and amusement.

"Has anyone ever told you that you look like someone heading off to blow up an enemy bunker with a backpack full of explosives?"

I stared at him, completely speechless.

"Evelyn! Are you on this floor?"

Arthur's voice rang out from the hallway.

Knocking echoed along the corridor, one door after another, growing closer with each passing moment. Between calls for me, I could hear the faint clicks of keycards being swiped at other rooms.

I turned toward Edward, silently pleading for help.

He remained unhurried. Placing a hand at my waist, he leaned down until his mouth was close to my ear.

Then, in a soft voice that sounded remarkably like Arthur's, he whispered, "Evelyn..."

I must have lost my mind to think Edward could somehow get me out of this mess.

By the time Arthur reached Room 1688 and swiped his keycard, his hand was already on the doorknob.

I pressed one hand against the door.

"Arthur, I'm in here! Someone spilled wine on me, so I borrowed this room to take a shower."

Behind my back, my other hand pushed Edward farther into the room.

His voice brushed against my ear.

"Those few seconds just now? That's pretty much what it feels like."

It took me a moment to understand.

My heart was pounding against my throat, my palms were sweating, and I was desperately trying to hide something, terrified of being caught.

That was what he meant.

That was what it felt like.

Arthur paused outside the door.

"Is someone in there?"

I felt a slight pressure against the door from behind me. Edward had braced his hand against the panel.

Only then did I realize I'd been holding the door shut by myself the entire time.

I took a deep breath and lowered my voice.

"My hair and clothes are soaked. It's not a good time to come in, Arthur. It's your engagement day with Mia. Everyone's waiting for you. Mrs. Sterling will be worried, too."

The hallway fell silent for a moment.

"Call me if you need anything," Arthur finally said. "I'm always here."

His footsteps gradually faded into the distance.

I stayed pressed against the door, listening until the hallway was completely quiet.

A dull ache crept into my chest. My nose stung, and my eyes began to burn with unshed tears.

I didn't move or say a word.

Instead, I silently replayed every exchange between Arthur and me, going over the conversation from beginning to end.

Finally, I turned around and caught the hem of Edward's robe.

"He's gone. Let's continue."

Edward slowly raised an eyebrow, his expression so innocent it was almost convincing.

"Continue... what?"