Alesia's POV.
As relaxing as the hot tub was supposed to be, my muscles refused to unclench. Steam curled around me in soft white ribbons, but even that couldn't calm the panic twisting inside my chest. My fingers dug into the edge of the tub until they ached.
Was he going to sleep with me?
The thought alone made my pulse spike.
Jesus Christ. I would rather drown myself in this damn tub than betray Antonio. The contract said nothing about Jericho touching me. Nothing about sharing a bed, nothing about sex, nothing about giving my body to him.
But it didn't matter.
Because he was Jericho.
A man who didn't need permission.
A man who didn't ask—he took.
A man who could do and undo whatever the hell he pleased.
