Chapter 32
At those words, Rosie instinctively swallowed hard. She knew he was speaking out of anger, yet somehow it sounded like a declaration of war.
Just then, the fierce night breeze from the sea swept between them, violently tangling Rosie’s hair. Even though she was wearing Ainar’s jacket, the night air was cold, and Rosie shivered slightly.
“Tsk.”
He clicked his tongue and reached out toward her shoulder.
“Let’s go inside.”
Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders to shield her from the wind. Caught off guard, Rosie stammered.
“Huh? But… the party isn’t over yet…”
“Then at least go indoors. It’s cold.”
Ainar spoke firmly and led Rosie back inside.
“Mmh…”
Rosie woke up, holding her throbbing head. When she forced her eyes open, all she could see was the white bedding that had kept her warm all night.
She had a habit of always placing a glass of water nearby before bed, so she blindly reached her hand out to where it should be.
“…?”
Something was off.
Her fingers should have brushed a smooth nightstand—but instead, they grasped nothing but air. Rosie slowly turned her head.
“This isn’t…”
The room was just as luxurious as her usual one, but it wasn’t the Rose Suite she knew. She stared out past the bed, where the ocean waves glimmered through a small window, and tried to recall last night.
“Oh.”
The memories flooded in at once.
Right… yesterday, I boarded the cruise with the manager, met Lady Maybelin, and then…
Rosie’s eyes widened as she glanced to the other side of the bed.
“…Good heavens.”
A man lay beside her, eyes closed, breathing evenly. The deep violet eyes reminiscent of dusk were hidden behind his eyelids, but the high, straight nose and masculine brow bones left no room for doubt.
It was Ainar.
…!
Rosie screamed internally, pressing both hands over her mouth to keep from making a sound. Images flashed in her mind—fireworks exploding against the night sky, the cold wind brushing her skin, the lingering scent of fruit wine, and his face—flushed as though swept away by heat.
If it could be anyone, then let it be me. I don’t know about fiery love, but I can join you for a spark.
Rosie hesitantly lifted the blanket covering her and checked underneath.
Her dress was wrinkled and bunched up, and there were dried traces of something on it. Fortunately, she was still wearing all her clothes properly.
She let out a small sigh of relief—and then froze.
“Awake?”
The man who had clearly been asleep moments ago now stared directly at her. Rosie yanked the blanket toward herself in panic, but doing so pulled it off him—revealing his bare upper body.
Unlike her fully dressed state, he was completely shirtless.
“W–W–Why?! Why are we sleeping together? No—why are YOU like that?!”
Rosie barely managed to force the words out before she started screaming. Ainar frowned.
“Oh. You don’t remember?”
His tone was oddly displeased, and Rosie felt her blood run cold. Judging from his appearance and demeanor, the two of them truly must have played with fire last night.
But even so, how can he act like this the very next morning…
Trying to hide her hurt, Rosie forced a calm tone.
“…Forget it. Whether I remember or not doesn’t matter. It was just one night, and I won’t make you take responsibility. I promise.”
She said it lightly, suppressing the scream in her throat.
What have I done…
Yes, she’d been drunk. Yes, she had fantasized about passionate love. But she never thought she’d actually lose control like this. She turned her eyes to Ainar again.
Under the bright light, his broad chest and sculpted abs came sharply into view, invading her senses.
Gulp.
Rosie swallowed involuntarily.
She knew it was the worst possible time for such thoughts, but… if that beautiful man was the one she had spent her last night with before dying someday—well, perhaps that wasn’t such a bad experience.
Rosie slapped both hands against her cheeks.
“No! Absolutely not!”
To Ainar, she looked like a woman regretting her choices, through and through. His expression grew colder and colder.
“So. You’re saying you don’t even remember last night and it wasn’t important, so we should just forget it. Is that it?”
“…Yes.”
Rosie nodded stiffly. Ainar’s frown deepened.
“No. I can’t accept that.”
“…Pardon?”
“You might not know, but it’s something I can’t forget.”
“…What?”
“You’re the first woman who has ever done something like that to me, Rosie.”
“…What?!”
The more he spoke, the wider Rosie’s jaw dropped.
Like that? What does THAT mean?!
With her feeble imagination, she tried to recall anything more—but nothing surfaced. Ainar sighed at her bewildered expression.
“Don’t tell me you planned to avoid me after doing that to me.”
“…”
“What’s with that look?”
“If I… did something you hated, then I’m sorry. Truly. But I really don’t remember anything.”
She bowed her head in shame. Ainar’s gaze felt like silent condemnation.
Yet she couldn’t offer him money or responsibility. She wasn’t in any position to do either—and he certainly didn’t look like a man who wanted to ruin his life over one drunken night.
Her expression grew stiff with despair.
Then—knock, knock.
“I will enter, Master Ainar.”
It was Tom’s voice.
Rosie’s eyes widened. There was no separate sitting room—the moment the door opened, Tom would see everything.
“W–Wait—!”
Rosie clutched the blanket around herself, panicked. She wasn’t indecent, but she did NOT want to be seen like this.
The door opened anyway.
Rosie bit her lip—
—and suddenly, a blanket dropped over her head, engulfing her in darkness.
Ainar’s furious voice cut through the air.
“What do you think you’re doing, Tom Jeckin?”
“Sir? I brought what you ordered—”
“Get out.”
“…Sir?”
“Get out, Tom Jeckin.”
His ice-cold dismissal froze the room. Hearing Tom stutter, Rosie finally began thinking clearly.
Tom wouldn’t enter without a reason.
And if he suspected anything had happened between them last night, he would never casually open the door.
Rosie glanced down at herself again. Her clothes were messy but intact. Her body felt normal.
So nothing really happened.
If that was true, then hiding under a blanket only made things worse.
“If I’m getting in the way of work, I’ll leave. Please, continue your—wah!”
She poked her head out—only to have Ainar shove the blanket back over her face.
His voice growled above her.
“Stay still, Rosie.”
