The moment she spoke, the already silent bedroom fell so still that even the sound of breathing vanished.
Zane Hawthorne's silence was deafening. A beat too late, Zoe Rhodes realized what she'd just said, and with burning cheeks, she stammered, "I mean... uh, if it's... inconvenient for you... then..."
She didn't even know what she was saying anymore. She was just thankful the room was dimly lit and her back was to Zane Hawthorne, so he couldn't catch the mortified look on her face.
Behind her, Zane Hawthorne gently pinched the soft flesh of her waist. "What sort of things have you been looking at now?"
"...Nothing," Zoe Rhodes murmured, her gaze dropping guiltily.
She swore to herself she really hadn't watched anything of the sort.
Zane Hawthorne clearly didn't believe her, and his grip tightened. The spot on Zoe Rhodes's waist tickled, and unable to withstand his "interrogation," she finally confessed:
