Tangled in Desire

Zara took one last look around the spacious hotel room as she dropped her bag near the bed, mentally going over the plans for tomorrow's signing event. She'd insisted on staying at her own hotel, partly out of convenience and partly to oversee the final details of the event. As usual, her employees had been on their best behavior, treating her with formal respect. Zara rolled her eyes at their formality, reassuring each of them to just treat her as a regular guest.

Before heading to her room, she turned to her assistant, Tori, who had driven her to the hotel. "Get some good rest tonight," Zara told her, handing over a spare key card. "And don't even think about picking up the phone if I call. You're off duty until morning."

Tori smiled, nodding gratefully. "Got it, boss. I'll be bright and early tomorrow to help with everything."

"Good. You deserve a night off," Zara replied with a smile, giving her a gentle pat on the shoulder before they headed to their separate rooms.

Zara finally entered her suite, a comfortable and luxurious space decorated with calming tones and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city skyline. She kicked off her shoes and made her way over to the plush bed, letting out a deep sigh as she sank into the mattress, savoring the moment of calm before the big day.

Zara had just sunk into the plush hotel bed when a noise caught her attention. The bathroom door opened, and she froze. Out walked a man she recognized instantly—the guy who'd nearly hit her with his car earlier. Only now, he was in nothing but a towel, slung low on his hips, with droplets of water tracing down his sculpted chest and arms. He casually ran another towel over his wet hair, not even noticing her at first.

When he finally looked up, his gaze turned ice-cold as he took her in. There was no flicker of surprise, just pure, detached irritation as his eyes narrowed.

"Get out," he said flatly, his voice low and commanding. No questions, no courtesy—just an order, as though her presence were nothing more than an inconvenience.

Zara raised an eyebrow, refusing to be intimidated. "Excuse me? I think you're the one in the wrong room."

He looked at her as if she were some minor obstacle in his way. "I don't have time for this. Move."

Her jaw tightened, but she forced herself to keep calm. She wasn't about to let this arrogant stranger boss her around in what was, technically, her own space. But she held her tongue, deciding to play along for now.

"I'll call the front desk and sort this out," she said, her tone clipped but controlled.

Without waiting for a response, she turned toward the suite's phone, pointedly ignoring him as he went back into the bathroom, his indifference chilling. As he closed the door, Zara muttered under her breath, annoyance simmering as she reached for the phone.

She didn't know who this man thought he was, but one thing was clear—this was far from over.