Millie followed Sandra’s directions through a tangle of tall trees.
The path to the hot tub wasn’t straight at all.
She almost tripped over a thick root sticking out of the ground like a claw.
She caught herself, muttered a quick curse, then stopped dead.
There it was.
A single lamp flickered in the small clearing, throwing soft yellow light over a big wooden tub tucked behind an old oak.
But the tub wasn’t empty.
Someone was already in it.
A guy sat half under the water, steam rising around him and blurring his shape.
Millie hesitated, then cleared her throat.
“Excuse me?” she called, careful but not rude.
He turned slowly.
“Can I help you?” His voice was calm, but there was a sharp edge under it.
Millie’s heart gave a hard thump.
Even in the low light, he looked good—dark, messy hair, strong jaw, eyes a bright, piercing blue.
The kind of face that made you forget what you were saying.
“Uh, yeah,” she managed.
She suddenly felt way too aware of her thin robe and bare legs.
“This is the staff hot tub, right?”
He raised one eyebrow.
A slow smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, turning his guarded look into something way too charming.
“Last I checked,” he said.
Millie crossed her arms, trying to play it cool even though her nerves were buzzing.
“I was about to hop in, but it looks like you got here first.”
He shrugged, completely relaxed.
“Seems that way.
I don’t mind sharing.”
“Right,” she said, eyeing him.
“You one of the housekeepers? Or maybe the grounds guy?”
He looked too put-together for either job, but she asked anyway.
He laughed—a low, easy sound that rolled through the quiet night.
“Neither.”
Millie lifted a brow.
“Then who are you?”
He leaned back against the edge of the tub, arms spread along the rim.
His smile got bigger.
“Evan Moretti.”
The name landed like a punch.
Millie blinked.
“A Moretti?” she said.
“In the staff hot tub? Yeah, that makes total sense.” She narrowed her eyes.
“Because obviously Morettis love soaking in glorified horse troughs.”
“Actually, sometimes we do. Adds character. A little edge.”
She gave him a flat look.
“Sure.
I bet the whole family’s out here every weekend, scrubbing up under the stars next to the barn.”
“Only the fun ones,” he said, grin widening.
Millie wasn’t buying any of it.
The longer he sat there looking smug and amused, the more she wanted to knock that look off his face.
But something about his easy confidence made her push back harder.
“Okay,” she said, lifting her chin.
“If you’re really a Moretti, prove it. Walk to the main house. Right now. Naked.”
The smile slipped off his face for half a second.
She leaned in a little.
“If you’re legit, they’ll roll out the welcome mat. If not, well… security here doesn’t mess around.”
Evan stared at her through the steam.
The amusement in his eyes didn’t go away—it got deeper.
“You’re more fun than you look,” he said slowly.
Millie opened her mouth to fire back something sharp, but the words stuck when Evan stood up.
Just like that.
Water poured off him, running down his chest, his abs, the lines of his hips.
Millie snapped her eyes away fast, cheeks burning.
She heard him step out of the tub, water dripping onto the ground.
Her stomach flipped—not the good kind.
This was probably a terrible idea.
She was alone in the dark woods with a naked guy who might be lying about who he was.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
Millie kept her gaze fixed on the trees behind him.
“What are you doing?”
“You dared me,” he said.
“A Moretti doesn’t back down from a dare.”
Her eyes went wide.
“I didn’t mean— I mean, you’re—” She waved a hand vaguely in his direction without looking.
“I dared you to walk to the house, not stand here like some… moonlit statue.”
He laughed again, deep and warm.
“Fair point.”
She risked a quick glance.
He was still grinning, totally unbothered, towel slung low around his hips now.
“Challenge accepted, Miss…?”
She swallowed.
“If you’re actually a Moretti, maybe I’ll tell you my name.”
Evan tilted his head.
“Still not convinced? Good. I like a challenge.”
Millie stood frozen.
She’d just dared a guy to streak through the woods—and he was actually doing it.
Too effortless.
Then she spotted the tattoo.
Dark vines twisted up his leg, disappearing under the towel.
Her stomach dropped.
It looked too much like Aidan’s.
Way too much.
No.
Couldn’t be.
Just a coincidence.
Had to be.
Before she could pull herself together, Mr. Jameson came around the corner and froze.
“Evan?!” His voice cut through the night.
“What the hell are you doing out here naked?”
So yeah.
Evan was a Moretti.
And Jameson knew him on sight.
The guards at the gate didn’t even flinch.
No alarm, no rush—just business as usual.
Millie dragged a hand down her face.
“Great,” she muttered.
“Just great. I’ll be out of here by morning.”
She turned to go, muttering under her breath the whole way.
God help her.
The walk back to the house felt longer than it should have.
The cool air bit at her legs, but her face stayed hot.
Every step she replayed the whole stupid thing—her big mouth, his easy grin, the way he’d stood up without a second thought.
She’d pushed him on purpose, half to call his bluff, half because something about his cocky smile made her want to see him squirm.
And he hadn’t squirmed at all.
He’d just gone along with it, like her dare was the most entertaining thing that had happened to him all week.
By the time she slipped back into her room, Andrea was already in bed, reading on her phone with the screen dimmed low.
Andrea glanced up.
“You’re back fast. Hot tub that bad?”
Millie dropped her towel on the chair.
“It was occupied.”
Andrea snorted.
“Told you. Horse trough.”
Millie peeled off the damp robe and pulled on pajamas.
“Yeah…”
She didn’t want to go through the whole embarrassing thing again.