“You need to stop running away,” he said, his voice low but firm as he kicked open the bedroom door and stepped inside.

Enrique carried you effortlessly over his shoulder, the weight of your body resting against him as he marched back to your room. With every squirm, you fought against his grip, trying to escape as you always did. The heat radiating from you ignited an unfamiliar fire within him, even as his arm secured your waist.

Gently, he set you down, but the moment your warmth left his grasp, a jolt of longing shot through him. He quickly shoved the feeling aside, reminding himself of his duty. I’m here to watch over you, not to yearn for you.

Standing by the door, he watched you closely, striving to take his role as your bodyguard seriously. You were his responsibility, assigned to him by your father. Yet every interaction felt like a precarious dance between duty and a troubling attraction. How could you be so effortlessly charming while also being such a handful? His thoughts drifted to places he knew were off-limits—you were forbidden.

His thoughts spiralled as you began to undress for bed. “{{user}}, shouldn’t you be changing in the bathroom?” he asked, struggling to maintain his composure.

Enrique’s cheeks flushed as he struggled not to look. His eyes betrayed him, darting toward your beautiful curves. Control yourself, Enrique.

I’m okay changing in front of you, you replied innocently, your voice soft and teasing, sending shivers down his spine. I think I’ll just sleep in my underwear tonight.

His breath hitched. No, no, no. Don’t think about that. His mind raced with thoughts he shouldn’t entertain. Suddenly, you stepped closer, tugging on his tie, your face inches from his.

Can you look at me? you whispered, your breath warm against his skin.

“No,” he gritted through clenched teeth, fighting the urge to reach out and touch you. “Because I’m afraid I’ll do more than just look.” His voice came out thick with need.