CHAPTER 86: RIGHT BEHIND HER

The shower had been nothing short of perfect. For a blissful few minutes, Merlina let herself melt beneath the cascading heat, steam curling around her like a private cloud.

The shower head was wide and massive pouring down in a steady rush that felt less like water, more like standing beneath a hot, gentle rain. The kind that didn’t ask questions. The kind that washed everything else away.

But of course, the peace didn’t last.

Just as she reached for her towel, a soft beep echoed from the wall panel. Then another. Low and rhythmic.

Merlina frowned.

She padded closer, towel wrapped tightly around her chest, hair still wet and clinging to her shoulders. She pressed the glowing button once, but nothing. It beeped again.

She tried swiping to the manual settings. The interface blinked, then froze. Another beep.

Not loud. But unsettling. Like the faint beep of an appliance left running, or a door that didn’t quite close. A quiet reminder that something hadn’t been done right. She exhaled sharply and stepped back, brows furrowing.

She tried again. Another swipe. A button combo. Holding it down. The beeping stuttered, then resumed, like it was mocking her.

Frustration set in, she walked over to the bedroom, then hovered by the door. Hand on the knob. Listening. Then, slowly, she cracked it open and peered out.

The hallway stretched silent. Her siblings’ rooms, two doors down on either side, were sealed tight, the kind of quiet that felt intentional. Not even a murmur slipped through. It was like the doors had been built to swallow every sound.

Her eyes flicked left, then right.

No movement. No footsteps. Just the low hum of the house and the soft brush of warm air through the vents.

If she walked out now, if someone saw her calling Craig up here, she’d never hear the end of it. Isabel would smirk. Melissa would raise a brow. Carlos and Alistair? They’d add fuel just for fun.

She exhaled quietly and shut the door again.

Nope

. She wasn’t giving anyone ammunition tonight.

Still, she stood there, hand resting on the doorknob with hesitation.

She could try to ignore it, that strange little beep, tbut what if it was something important? A glitch in the system? Something she accidentally pressed without realizing?

This was Craig’s guesthouse. If something broke, if something short-circuited, what if he had to deal with it? What if they charged him for damage?

She bit down a groan, running a hand through her damp hair. She didn’t want to be the reason anything got messed up. Especially not after he’d given her this room. His room.

Her eyes drifted to her reflection, still wrapped in a towel, skin dewy from the shower, hair clinging to her neck. Her clothes were still draped near the heater, warming slowly like she’d forgotten how cold everything had been before the water.

She didn’t want to overthink this. Not again.

"Fuck it," she muttered, grabbing her phone off the nightstand.

She tapped his name. And hit call.

The phone rang once. Twice.

"Merlina?" His voice was quiet. A little surprised. A little concerned.

She swallowed. "Hey. Sorry. Um...something’s wrong with the shower panel? It’s...beeping? And it won’t stop."

There was a pause on the other end.

"Beeping how?"

"I don’t know. Like... robot heart monitor? I tried everything. It won’t respond."

His answer came almost immediately, steady and low, like a promise. "Alright. Stay there. I’m coming up."

So here she was, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, heart thudding a little louder than it needed to.

She wasn’t freaking out. Not really. But the beeping had picked up again, sharp, then dull, like it couldn’t decide whether it was a warning or just being annoying.

Then, a knock.

Soft, but firm. Two quick taps against the door, and her stomach flipped like it hadn’t gotten the memo that this was not a big deal.

She padded over, hesitated just a second, then cracked the door open.

Craig stood there, in a slate-grey tee that clung just enough to his frame, the soft fabric creased slightly like he’d thrown it on in a hurry, hair a little tousled like he’d run a hand through it in a rush.

His gaze flicked to her face, then down, her bare and damp shoulders. His jaw tightened just slightly before his eyes moved back to her face.

"Hey," he said, voice low. "You okay?"

Merlina didn’t trust her voice, so she just stepped aside and pointed. "The panel. It won’t shut up."

Craig didn’t say anything. He walked in quietly, brushing past her, his shoulder catching the faint scent of his Baccarat Rouge shower gel on her skin.

Three seconds.

That’s how long it took him.

A few taps, a swipe, then one firm press and the beeping cut off like it had been waiting for someone competent to show up.

He glanced over his shoulder. "It was in diagnostic mode. Probably glitched after your shower ran over the sensor time limit. Happens when the room’s too steamy."

She raised a brow. "So basically I broke it by enjoying it too much."

Craig gave a faint smirk, then straightened. "Something like that."

There was a drop of water still clinging to her jaw. Her hair was wet, clinging to her neck, and her face. God, her face looked softer than he remembered. He hadn’t seen her like this before, less guarded, more real, and for some reason, that undid him more than anything she’d ever said or done.

And he just stood there, stupidly still, like he’d stepped into a memory he never wanted to forget.

Merlina, either oblivious or simply unwilling to sit in the silence, leaned against the sink. "This is your room, isn’t it?"

His gaze flicked up. He hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah."

"So why’d you give it to me?"

That made him pause. He looked away, as if studying the clean lines of the bathroom or searching for words on the tile. "I figured you and your siblings would be more comfortable being next to each other. The fourth room’s downstairs. It’s a little... cut off."

"Oh," She blinked, caught off guard. She hadn’t even thought about that, how her siblings were just across the hall. How it would’ve been different if she were one floor down, alone in some unfamiliar corner of the house.

Something tugged quietly inside her.

That was thoughtful of him. She hadn’t expected that, hadn’t even known she needed it until he said it out loud.

For the first time that night, she looked at him with something different in her eyes. Not suspicion. Not tension. Gratitude. Quiet, steady, and unmistakable.

"Thanks." She said quietly.

Craig’s lips lifted just slightly. "You’re welcome."

Silence settled again, a little softer now. She reached for the thin chain resting on the counter, her necklace. She usually didn’t take it off when she showered, but tonight... maybe her nerves were messing with her. She’d been doing things without really thinking, moving on autopilot.

Now her fingers fumbled over the clasp, too clumsy, too aware of his presence behind her.

She lifted her chin, trying to hook it behind her neck, but her hands were still slightly damp, a little shaky. She cursed under her breath.

"Let me help," Craig said gently.

"It’s fine," she muttered, struggling again. "I’ve got it. My hands are just—"

"Let me help."

There was something about the way he said it. Low. Certain. Not demanding, just... sure.

She stilled. Slowly, she lowered her arms and handed it over.

He stepped closer, coming to stand behind her. Their reflections aligned in the mirror. Her, towel-wrapped and still flushed from the heat of the shower and him, standing tall and quiet behind her, in that soft grey tee and joggers, his Apple watch screen still glowing faintly on his wrist.

He reached out carefully, brushing her damp hair over one shoulder. The lightest touch. But it still sent a wave of heat down her spine.

Then his hands moved to the clasp, his fingers steady and precise. The cool metal of the necklace met her skin as he fastened it with a slow, effortless ease.

And just like that he was done, but he didn’t step back. They just stared at each other, through the mirror. Heart pounding, chest rising and falling.

She should’ve moved, but she didn’t want to. She’d wanted this. And hated that she still did. Because if she let herself lean into it, even for a second, she didn’t know how to pull back without breaking.

Then, slowly, as if drawn by something neither of them could name, he leaned in and wrapped his arms around her waist. His chest pressed against her back, warm and steady. Merlina’s eyes immediately fell shut, she opened them back again, trying to steady her breath.

He lowered his head, and his lips pressed gently to her bare and damp shoulder—a kiss so quiet, so reverent, it felt like a confession. Like he’d been holding himself back for too long and couldn’t anymore.

And then, close to her ear, his breath warm and unsteady, he whispered, "I’ve missed you."