Love beyond the mask (Whitney) novel Chapter 277

Whitney really knew how to pick her moments. Crashing into his broad chest, she let it all out, barely stopping short of bringing up bile.

Silence engulfed the parking lot, the wind leaving no trace. Ludwik's body stiffened, radiating an icy fury.

"You... damn woman."

Ludwik's mood darkened to stormy, his hand covering his nose, his face turning as dark as a burnt pan.

He had a serious case of germophobia!

It was only after Whitney had finished that she remembered, oh no, she was in for it now.

She decided to play the drunk card, lifting her head with a silly smile, "Oops, sorry, got a bit carried away there..."

Ludwik paused, his grip tightening on her chin, a cold smile forming as his eyes bore into hers, "Got a smart mouth, huh?"

"This shirt cost me eighty thousand dollars."

Now it was Whitney's turn to be speechless. "Do you always rip people off like this?"

"Thought you were drunk? Your reaction to money seems pretty sober to me."

Silence.

"Clean it or pay up double."

"Shameless racketeer, why did you even come back?" Whitney was fuming.

Ludwik's eyes hardened further, his face growing even darker, but he didn't answer. Instead, he hastily wiped his shirt and stuffed it into her arms.

Whitney was livid at his prank. This man could really be disgusting!

But she found herself powerless against him, scooped up in his arms and carried over his shoulder.

The world spun for a moment, and when she was set down again, they were back at the hotel lobby.

He tossed a card at the receptionist, "Room, please."

The receptionist blushed at the sight of his cold, handsome face and his deep, magnetic voice. Even asking for a room sounded incredibly sexy coming from him.

She couldn't help but sneak glances at Whitney, thinking what a lucky woman to be with him.

Whitney, feeling the weight of their stares, was mortified. "Please, don't get the wrong idea. It's not like that between us."

"Sure, sure," the receptionist winked, handing over the key card, "Room 2033, all set. Enjoy your night."

Whitney was beyond words, choosing to keep silent.

Ludwik took a few steps then turned, his lips curling into a smirk, "Well, let's go have fun, shall we?"

The receptionists huddled together, "Such a mature man, oozing desire. And what a physique!"

Whitney knew he was just trying to embarrass her.

Her face turned steely as she stepped into the elevator.

The hallway to room 2033 was silent, Whitney pondering why she was even following him upstairs. She could have just asked the lobby to call a cab.

Ludwik seemed to read her thoughts, his lips twisting, "Get in and get cleaned up. And my shirt too."

So she was indeed summoned for laundry duty.

Three years had passed, and he'd only gotten stingier.

Ludwik felt a wave of heat, his temper flaring as he undid his tie.

Before he could regain his composure, another crash sounded from the bathroom, followed by Whitney's cry of pain.

"What now?" Ludwik was on edge, battling the urge to leave.

"I think I twisted my back, L, can you come check on me?"

L...

Something stirred in him, a reminder of their early days, when she would call him that, a term of endearment.

Ludwik froze, perhaps realizing what he was about to do.

But it was too late. He found himself at the bathroom door, pushing it open to find her in a compromising position, her appeal undeniable.

"You, don't come any closer. I'm not dressed," Whitney bit her lip, her voice shaky.

"Now you remember decency? What was that display earlier? And it's not like I haven't seen it all before."

He approached, his expression cold as he grabbed a towel and covered her, his actions betraying his words.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, everything else faded away—

Ludwik's jaw clenched instinctively, feeling the soft brush of her lips against his, the intoxicating sweet scent of her breath mingling with a hint of vanilla...

It enveloped him, her delicate form pressed close in his embrace.

He knew all too well the sweetness of her, unforgettable even after three years, those few precious moments etched deep into his soul, haunting him.

Damn it, his throat worked hard to swallow, his body tensing uncontrollably, a turmoil of desire raging within...