Chapter 132

Chapter 132:

Gabriela hesitated, then asked in a low voice, “Miriam, do you happen to have any warmer pajamas p>

Miriam’s tone stayed light. “No need, dear. The heating’s more than enough to keep you cozy p>

Gabriela was at a loss for words. She’d been hoping for something with a bit more coverage, but as a guest, she couldn’t bring herself to push. With a small nod, she accepted the slip dress without protest.

“Will you be alright washing up on your own?” Miriam asked.

“Of course,” Gabriela answered quickly.

She’d weathered far worse injuries on her own before; this little sprain was nothing in comparison. Wesley’s and Miriam’s concern left her a little dazed, the warmth of their kindness pressing in on her.

Miriam gave a reassuring nod. “Go on and freshen up. I’ll be right outside. There’s shampoo and shower gel ready in the bathroom. Call me anytime if you need something p>

Gabriela murmured her thanks more than once before slipping into the bathroom with the slip dress draped over her arm.

𝗝𝗼𝗶𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝘦 𝗰𝘰𝗺𝘮𝗎𝗇𝘪t𝗒 𝘢𝗍

Inside, she paused, once again struck by the opulence of the upper class—even the guest bathroom was larger than her entire bedroom. Though her foot ached, she felt oddly self-conscious about using the bathtub in Wesley’s home.

Opting for the shower instead, she turned on the water. Standing was awkward and unsteady, and the process dragged on until she finally finished.

Fresh from her shower, Gabriela slipped into the slip dress, a prickle of self-consciousness creeping over her at how little it actually covered. To her relief, she wouldn’t have to step outside the room in it.

She towel-dried her hair as she stepped out of the bathroom—then froze mid-stride.

A tall man stood by the bed, his suit jacket draped neatly over a chair, fingers unclasping the strap of his watch.

At the sound of movement, he turned his head, his hand stalling over the watch. Gabriela’s breath caught. She whipped a hand over her eyes. Her voice wavered. “M-Mr. Moss p>

Why on earth was he in her room? His white shirt hung open, every button undone, revealing a stretch of toned skin beneath.

Wait a second—this was her room.

Why was she covering her eyes like a startled child when he was the one who’d stumbled into the wrong room?

Snapping back to her senses, Gabriela folded her arms tightly across her chest, her glare sharp enough to cut glass. “W-what exactly do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.

Wesley, fresh from an intense meeting with his think tank, looked entirely unfazed. After a full day cramped in an airplane seat, all he’d wanted was to sink into a scalding bath. Who could possibly explain why Gabriela was in his room?

And why was she standing there in such a skimpy dress, hardly suited for the winter chill? Those long, delicate legs—how could she bare them so openly?

A sudden rush of heat burned through Wesley, and he jerked his gaze away. “Care to explain why you’re in my room?” he asked.

The irritation in his voice made Gabriela falter. Had she somehow wandered into the wrong place? No, that couldn’t be—it was Miriam who had led her here.

She straightened and replied quickly, “Miriam was the one who brought me p>

A dull throb began to build behind Wesley’s temples. What on earth had Miriam been thinking?

He refastened his shirt buttons with brisk, precise movements, then draped his suit jacket over Gabriela’s shoulders before calling Miriam inside. With a faint edge in his voice, Wesley asked, “She’s a guest, Miriam. Why would you put her in here p>

Wesley caught the flicker of emotions crossing Gabriela’s face and let out a quiet sigh before declaring coolly, “I’ll take the study tonight p>

Gabriela blinked, momentarily thrown. This was his bedroom—she couldn’t just sprawl here as if it were hers, even if he wasn’t using it.