The loud banging on the door interrupted his shower, but he immediately recognized that aggressive knocking—it could only be Lucas.
Still dripping wet, he hastily wrapped a towel around himself and dashed barefoot to answer the door.
As soon as he opened it, there stood Lucas, clad in a sleek black trench coat, his hair half-dried from the wind.
His piercing eyes, dark and unreadable, fixed on her with an intensity that made her pulse quicken.
"Just wait inside for a bit.
I still need to dry my hair!"
Beauty turned to leave, but in an instant, his strong hand clamped around her wrist.
His deep, velvety voice was cool yet commanding.
"Don't walk barefoot.
You'll catch a cold."
"Oh!"
Her cheeks flushed pink as she slipped her arm free from his grasp and bolted back to the bathroom, desperate to hide her flustered state.
Twenty minutes later, she emerged wearing a soft beige skirt set, her hair tied up in a fresh, youthful topknot.
