The Billionaire’s Secret Quartet novel Chapter 1208

Lysander's grip was firm and strong, his palm exuding a warmth that signaled power and danger.

Thalassa dared not resist for fear of being torn apart.

When they returned to the room, Thalassa pulled away from his grasp and strode towards the bed. "I'm beat," she said, feigning tiredness. "I want to sleep. Don't you need a shower? Go freshen up."

"Join me," Lysander's voice resonated with a low magnetic timbre.

Thalassa whirled around in shock, her eyes wide and frantic. "What... what did you just say?"

"Help me shower," Lysander replied. "Took a hit to the leg, you know. Can't risk getting it wet; might get infected. You're all about tending to my wounds, aren't you?"

She was at a loss for words. The excuse was bulletproof.

After all, his leg was hurt while saving her. She couldn't just abandon him.

Taking a deep breath, Thalassa forced a smile. "Fine, I'll help you."

In the bathroom, she began to help him undress. Standing so close, her head barely reached his shoulder. At a decent height of five-foot-five, she was not short by any means, but next to Lysander's towering frame, she seemed petite.

Her fingers worked on the buttons of his shirt—one, two...

Concentrating on the task at hand, she avoided his gaze. As his shirt fell open, his lean, well-defined muscles began to reveal themselves—the ruggedness of his Adam's apple, the tautness of his chest—all exuding a raw, masculine allure.

The heavy scent of his pheromones filled the air, entangling with Thalassa's breathing.

She had started with pure intentions, her mind void of wayward thoughts. But as she glimpsed the body beneath his clothes, her heart began to falter, her breathing slowed to a shallow rhythm.

She tried focusing solely on his shirt buttons, yet her peripheral vision kept catching glimpses of his taut skin and muscular lines, irresistibly drawing her eyes, tempting her heart.

Lysander watched from above with a deep interest, his gaze shifting from evaluative to amused.