ENTANGLED

Marcus's house was exactly what Sophia had expected, modern, expensive, and immaculately maintained. Every surface gleamed, every line was clean and purposeful, much like the man himself.

A woman in her fifties appeared the moment they crossed the threshold, her graying hair pulled back in an elegant bun.

"Mr. Kane," she said with a warm, maternal smile. "I wasn't expecting you back so early."

"Maria, this is Sophia, Ethan's sister. She'll be staying in the guest room indefinitely." Marcus's voice had returned to its usual controlled, businesslike tone, as if the raw emotion from earlier had been carefully locked away.

Maria's eyes immediately softened as she took in Sophia's tear-streaked face and rumpled appearance. "Of course, dear. Come, let me show you to your room."

Sophia followed Maria up the sweeping staircase, acutely aware of Marcus's presence behind them. His footsteps were quiet but deliberate, and she could feel his gaze on her back like a physical weight.

The guest room was stunning, spacious and comfortable, decorated in soothing neutrals with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city. It had its own ensuite bathroom with marble countertops and fluffy white towels.

"There are fresh linens in the bathroom, and I'll bring up some chamomile tea," Maria said kindly, her voice gentle with understanding. "Mr. Kane asked me to ensure you have everything you need. Are you hungry, sweetheart?"

Sophia shook her head, her appetite completely gone. "Thank you, Maria. You're very kind."

After Maria left, Sophia sank onto the edge of the king-sized bed, trying to process the whirlwind her life had become in the span of a few hours. She was in Marcus's house. She was going to be sleeping under the same roof as the man who'd haunted her dreams for years.

An hour later, after Maria had brought tea and quietly retreated, Sophia realized she'd forgotten her phone charger in her haste to leave. Her laptop was dead too, and she needed to check her class schedule for tomorrow. Maybe Marcus had a spare charger she could borrow.

She padded down the hallway in bare feet, wearing nothing but an oversized sleep shirt that fell mid-thigh and cotton shorts. Marcus's room was at the end of the long corridor, and she could see warm light spilling from beneath his door.

Sophia knocked softly on the heavy wood. When there was no answer, she tried again, a bit louder this time. Still nothing.

Maybe he couldn't hear her through the thick door. Music could be playing, or he might be on a call. She turned the handle carefully and pushed the door open just a crack.

"Marcus, I was wondering if you had a....."

The words died in her throat, strangled by shock and sudden, overwhelming desire.

Marcus stood with his back to her, having just stepped out of what must have been a shower. Water droplets clung to his broad shoulders and traced lazy paths down his muscled back. A white towel rode low on his narrow hips, and his dark hair was still damp, curling slightly at the nape of his neck.

Sophia's mouth went completely dry. She'd imagined what Marcus might look like without clothes, what nineteen-year-old woman with a crush hadn't? but the reality was devastatingly superior to her fantasies. His body was a work of art: all lean muscle and smooth golden skin, with an intricate tattoo she'd never noticed before winding around his left shoulder blade.

Marcus must have sensed her presence because he turned around slowly, as if he had all the time in the world.

Sophia's breath caught audibly. His chest was just as perfect as his back, defined abs that looked carved from marble, broad shoulders that could easily carry her weight, and a trail of dark hair that disappeared tantalizingly beneath the towel. Water still glistened on his skin, and his steel-gray eyes were dark and intense as they locked onto hers.

For a heartbeat that stretched into eternity, they simply stared at each other. Sophia felt heat pool low and urgent in her belly, felt her pulse hammer wildly in her throat. Marcus's eyes traveled over her with deliberate slowness, taking in her bare legs, her oversized shirt that barely covered her shorts, her flushed face and parted lips.

"Sophia." His voice was rough, strained, like her name had been dragged across broken glass.

The sound of her name spoken in that gravelly tone snapped her out of her trance. Heat flooded her cheeks as mortification crashed over her, she was standing in his doorway, staring at him like he was something she wanted to consume completely.

"I'm sorry! God, I'm so sorry!" She spun around and fled down the hallway, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst from her chest.

Back in her room, Sophia pressed her back against the closed door, her entire body trembling with a mixture of embarrassment and overwhelming arousal. She could still see him, every perfect inch of masculine perfection. The way the towel had clung precariously to his hips. The way his eyes had darkened when they'd swept over her body.

She squeezed her eyes shut, but that only made it worse. Now she could imagine what it would feel like to run her hands over those broad shoulders, to trace the defined lines of his abdomen with her fingertips. What would his skin feel like under her palms? Would it be as warm and smooth as it looked? Would he shiver if she traced that tantalizing trail of hair?

Sophia slid down the door until she was sitting on the plush carpet, her heart still racing erratically. In her mind, she imagined Marcus stepping closer, water still glistening on his skin. Imagined him reaching for her with those strong hands, pulling her against that perfect chest. Would his touch be gentle or demanding? Would he kiss her slowly, thoroughly, or with the same barely controlled intensity she'd seen flickering in his gray eyes?

She could almost feel his arms around her, strong and protective yet possessive. Could almost taste his lips, feel the heat of his skin against hers. In her fantasy, he whispered her name again, but this time it was breathless, desperate, hungry.

A soft knock on her door made her jump violently out of her heated thoughts.

"Sophia?" Marcus's voice was muffled through the thick wood, but she could hear the strain in it. "Are you all right?"

Sophia's heart stopped completely. He was right there on the other side of the door, probably still wearing nothing but that dangerously low towel.

"I'm fine!" she called back, her voice coming out too high and breathless. "I'm sorry I barged in like that! I should have waited for you to answer!"

There was a pause that seemed to stretch forever. "You needed something?"

"Just... just a phone charger. But it can wait until tomorrow! Really!"

Another pause, longer this time. Then, quietly: "I'll leave one outside your door."

Sophia heard his footsteps retreat down the hallway, and she let out a shaky breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. This was going to be impossible. How was she supposed to live under the same roof as Marcus when just seeing his half-naked body had made her lose complete control of her senses?

But as she finally climbed into the luxurious bed, Sophia couldn't stop replaying the way he'd looked at her. There had been something in his eyes, something hot and dangerous and definitely not the way you looked at your best friend's little sister.

Maybe, just maybe, she wasn't the only one feeling this magnetic pull between them.

And that thought was both absolutely thrilling and utterly terrifying.