Chapter 30

The next morning...

Sunlight streamed through the window, casting a soft, golden glow across the room.

Delilah stirred, still nestled against Marco’s chest, his arm resting protectively around her. 

A soft smile crept across her face as the memories of last night resurfaced, every passionate moment vivid in her mind. 

She finally felt the edge of those dirty dreams soften, her desires finally realized in Marco’s arms. 

She stretched slightly, savoring the pleasant soreness that reminded her of how he’d claimed her as his.

Turning her head, she saw him watching her with a warm, lazy smile, his eyes gentle but glinting with satisfaction. 

His hair was tousled, and his morning scruff made him look ruggedly irresistible.

"Good morning, beautiful," he murmured, his voice deep and husky with sleep.

Her cheeks warmed under his gaze. "Morning." 

She felt her heartbeat quicken, though they’d shared so much just hours before. 

He had a way of making her feel vulnerable and exhilarated at once, and now, finally, there were no lingering dreams, no frustrating fantasies—only the realness of him beside her.

Marco’s fingers traced her cheek, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "How are you feeling?"

Her lips curved in a grin. "Amazing… though maybe a little sore," she admitted with a laugh, feeling a mix of embarrassment and excitement.

He chuckled, that possessive glint flashing in his eyes. "I may have gotten a little carried away."

"Just a little," she teased, her fingers dancing lightly over his chest, tracing the firm lines of muscle. 

She could feel his heartbeat beneath her touch, steady and comforting.

They lay like that, holding each other in comfortable silence, until Marco leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

"I’ll grab a quick shower," he whispered, reluctantly slipping away from her warmth.

Delilah watched him disappear into the bathroom, the sound of the shower mingling with her thoughts. 

She lay back, closing her eyes briefly as she replayed his possessive words from last night—"Mine." 

They echoed in her mind, igniting that familiar thrill. 

When she finally sat up, her body protested, the soreness a delicious reminder of just how passionately Marco had shown her he meant every word.

When Marco returned, towel draped around his waist, his hair damp and dripping, she felt a blush creep up her cheeks all over again. 

His gaze swept over her, and he grinned, clearly satisfied with her reaction.

"Your turn," he said, holding out a hand.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, but as she stood, she winced slightly.

He noticed immediately, his face softening with concern. "Hey, are you okay?"

Delilah offered him a sheepish smile. "Just… a little sore," she admitted.

Without hesitation, Marco swept her into his arms, making her laugh in surprise. "Marco, I can walk!"

"I’ve got you," he whispered, cradling her securely as he carried her to the bathroom. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling his muscles flex with each step, and found herself melting into him.

Inside, he set her down gently on the edge of the tub. "Bath or shower?"

"Bath, please," she said, and he nodded, filling the tub with warm water and a few drops of essential oils he’d found by the sink. 

The scent of lavender filled the air, calming and intimate.

Marco helped her, his hands brushing against her skin, sending a delightful shiver through her. 

She held her breath as he guided her into the bath, letting herself sink into the warmth. 

She relaxed, leaning back against the porcelain, her eyes closing as she soaked in the soothing sensation.

But Marco wasn’t finished. 

Gently, he reached for a cloth and began washing her, his touch unhurried, his hands firm and careful. 

He ran the cloth over her shoulders, down her arms, each stroke tender and intentional. 

The sensation was calming, intimate, and, somehow, just as intoxicating as last night.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she found herself looking up into his gaze. He was focused on her, as though nothing else existed in the world. 

She wanted to speak, to tell him how much this meant to her, but the words caught in her throat.

He took his time, massaging her shoulders, arms, and legs with gentle care. Her sighs filled the room as he washed away every last bit of tension.

When he was done, he helped her out of the bath, wrapping her in a plush towel and drying her off with tender, focused hands, paying special attention to her sore spots. 

She felt his lingering touch as he slid the towel over her skin, his gaze intense but filled with a warmth that softened her heart.

"Thank you, Marco," she whispered, unable to hide her gratitude.

His lips curved in a small, satisfied smile. "Anything for you."

Once dressed, Delilah’s phone buzzed with a notification, pulling her attention away. 

She glanced at the screen and saw a message from Shh, I Tame Real Men. She had a new client.

She locked her screen, hoping Marco hadn’t seen it. "I… need to head to the café," she murmured, careful to keep her voice light.

Marco nodded, adjusting his shirt. "I’ve got some things to handle, too."

They went downstairs together for breakfast, sitting across from each other at a cozy table in the dining area. 

Delilah tried to focus on her food, but she couldn’t help the blush that crept up every time she met his gaze. 

She felt giddy, a quiet thrill lingering from last night that left her feeling like a teenager with a crush. 

She reached for her coffee, hoping to hide the smile playing at her lips, but he noticed, his own grin widening.

He leaned back, studying her, enjoying the way her cheeks reddened. 

"You’re cute when you blush," he teased, his voice low enough for only her to hear.

Delilah’s face grew hotter, but she couldn’t look away. "Stop that," she murmured, though a smile tugged at her lips.

He shrugged, unfazed. 

"I like seeing you smile." His expression softened, his gaze intent. "I like seeing you like this. With me."

Her heart thudded in her chest, and she looked away, a smile breaking free despite her efforts to hide it. 

She was hurrying to finish her meal, knowing she needed to get to her client, but any time her eyes met his, all she wanted was to stay. 

The world outside felt distant compared to the magnetic pull she felt toward him.

They finished breakfast, and Delilah stood up first, smoothing out her clothes. "I, uh, really have to go," she said, still trying to hide her blush.

Marco rose, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'll give you a ride."

Delilah's eyes widened. "You don't have to—"

"I want to," Marco interrupted, his voice gentle. "Besides, you don't have a car."

Delilah's lips curved in a grateful smile. "Thanks, again..."

Marco held out his hand, and Delilah took it, feeling a spark of electricity. He led her to his car, opening the door for her.

As Marco's car disappeared from view, Mrs. Hayden's furrowed brows deepened. She stood at the mansion's window, watching the empty driveway.

"What's gotten into those two?" she muttered to herself.

Just yesterday, Delilah and Marco seemed like any other likely roommate. 

Today, they were practically radiating affection.

Mrs. Hayden's curiosity piqued, she recalled the whispers she'd overheard during breakfast. 

Eavesdropping hadn't been her intention, but the dining room's open layout made it unavoidable.

"...I like seeing you smile..."

"...You’re cute when you blush..."

Their words, laced with intimacy, had raised Mrs. Hayden's eyebrows. She'd never seen Marco so smitten.

As she turned away from the window, Mrs. Hayden wondered: What sparked this sudden change? Was it a whirlwind romance or something more?

She shook her head, chuckling wryly. "I'll have to keep an eye on those two."

Mrs. Hayden's nosiness was piqued, and she looked forward to uncovering more about Delilah and Marco's relationship.