WHEN LOVE RETURNS

CHAPTER 6

After dinner, Aunt Nena smiled at Erica, her eyes twinkling with warmth. "You can use the other room, dear. It's all yours!"

Erica nodded, her mind already buzzing with thoughts of settling in. This is it, then. I'm here for good. As she fixed her things in the room, she noticed a few pieces of clothing hanging in the closet—men's shirts and a pair of worn-out jeans. What are those doing here? She frowned but quickly shrugged it off. Maybe Aunt Nena has a guest?

Later that night, the house fell silent. Erica was deep in sleep when she was jolted awake by the sound of movement. Who's that? She squinted through the dim light, blinking as her eyes adjusted. She froze in place when she saw the silhouette of a tall, topless man changing his clothes.

Her heart raced, and she gasped when the man flipped the light switch. Oh my God, he's so sexy. Her face burned red as she quickly averted her gaze, but it was too late—his toned body was already burned into her memory.

"Who are you?" Erica shouted, panic flooding her voice. "Don't do anything!"

The man turned, his deep voice cutting through the air with a sharp edge. "Who are you? You're the one in my room."

Erica's breath caught in her throat. What is going on? She glanced around, still trying to make sense of the situation. "What room? I thought this was Aunt Nena's husband's room or some sort of visitor's room." She stammered, confusion flooding her thoughts.

"I have no father, you idiot. I only have my mom—Aunt Nena." The man's voice was filled with irritation, his sharp gaze piercing through her. "Now, what are you doing here, and who are you?"

Oh no, this is not good. Erica's mind raced. What a way to introduce myself. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. "Aunt Nena let me use this room. By the way, I'm Erica Villanueva, daughter of Brandon Villanueva, the owner of your perfume you're using." She gestured toward the bottle of blue perfume on the counter, hoping the name would get his attention.

The man raised one eyebrow, his expression skeptical. "Then what in the world is someone like you doing here in this rural area if you're the daughter of this brand?"

Erica hesitated, unsure of how to explain. Why does he sound so unimpressed? But she pushed on. "I was... um, exiled here as a punishment by my father." Her voice faltered. "I'm rich, and he thought I needed to learn a lesson about life outside the city."

The man's face remained blank, his gaze never softening. He leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms. "Okay, go sleep. You're too noisy," he said, his tone dismissive, before he turned away and walked out of the room.

Erica blinked, feeling a mix of irritation and embarrassment. This is not how I imagined my first night here. She stood frozen for a moment, staring at the empty doorway.

She couldn't believe how casually he'd dismissed her—just like that. He didn't even care about my last name! She sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. She could feel her cheeks still burning from the awkwardness of the encounter.

Trying to calm herself, Erica lay back against the pillow, her mind racing. So that's Sam, huh? The thought of his strong presence, his cool attitude, and his body lingering in her memory made her pulse quicken once again. She shook her head, trying to focus on the events of the night.

I don't need to be thinking about him.

The tension from the encounter still hung in the air, but Erica knew she needed sleep. She closed her eyes, but her mind refused to quiet. The room felt colder now, the silence heavier. This is going to be a long stay. She turned over, pulling the blankets tighter around herself. I just need to get through this. One day at a time.