The little bit of temptation Claire had "accidentally" caught in the photo was anything but accidental.
Show any more and it would look cheap. Cover any more and it would lose the effect.
She opened her messages, sent the photo straight to Miles, and added a line beneath it.
[Dr. Warren, sorry to bother you this late. What do you think of this design? If you’d like anything changed, just let me know.]
Sent.
Claire held her phone, her heartbeat picking up despite herself.
***
At Regency Gardens, Miles had just stepped out of the shower. His phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Still drying his hair, he picked it up and opened the message.
Claire.
The moment he saw her name, his hand paused.
At the center of the photo was a detailed shirt sketch. The design was clean, clever, and unlike anything he usually saw in stores.
She really was talented.
Miles had no intention of replying. He started to put the phone down. Then something at the lower left corner of the photo caught his eye.
A strip of bare thigh. And over it, a very familiar white shirt.
The hem barely covered the tops of her thighs, leaving just enough to the imagination.
The towel in Miles’s hand stopped moving. A drop of water fell from his hair and landed directly over Claire’s bare leg on the screen.
His throat moved as he swallowed.
So the shirt hadn’t been lost at all. Claire was wearing it right now.
She hadn’t said anything about it, but the message couldn’t have been clearer.
It was sly. Deliberate. Provocative.
The shirt in her sketch looked perfectly respectable. The one on her looked anything but innocent.
Miles’s finger hovered over the screen. Heat spread through his hand and into the rest of his body.
He didn’t reply.
Not one word.
But he stared at the photo for a long time before he finally looked away.
After sending it, Claire put her phone facedown and went back to studying Crescent’s design brief.
Just as she expected, her phone stayed silent.
She had known Miles wouldn’t answer.
She wasn’t disappointed. A straightlaced man like him wasn’t going to react openly to one of her little tricks.
She had already thrown several not-so-subtle hints his way, and every one of them had gone nowhere.
’Maybe he just thinks my little tricks are boring. Then again, a man like him has probably had women chasing him his whole life. He’s probably seen every trick there is.’
Out of habit, Claire scrolled through her social feed.
Jacob had posted thirty minutes ago.
No caption. Just a dimly lit photo from a bar.
His expensive watch was unmistakable on the wrist he had wrapped around a woman’s waist. From the figure and clothes, it was clearly Yvonne.
Claire scrolled past without feeling a thing.
He was trash. There was nothing left to miss.
Once Moonstone Studio was free of Sinclair Group, she could finally cut Jacob out of her life for good.
Jacob had spent the evening at the Warren family estate, going over every detail of the engagement party. It was an important event for both families, and neither side wanted mistakes.
Afterward, Yvonne noticed his bad mood and suggested going out for drinks.
In the booth, Yvonne slipped an arm through Jacob’s and handed him a drink, a teasing smile on her lips.
"What’s wrong? Don’t tell me you’re missing your little girlfriend already. Regretting our engagement?"
Jacob stared irritably at his silent phone.
Two hours had passed since he’d stormed out of the apartment. Claire hadn’t sent a single message.
"She’s just someone I keep around. What right does she have to be angry?" Jacob drained his glass. "If she won’t behave, I’ll leave her hanging for a while. She’ll learn."
Something dark flashed in Yvonne’s eyes, though her laugh stayed sweet.
"Want your future wife to have a word with her? Remind her where she stands?"
Jacob’s fingers tightened sharply around the glass. His gaze turned hard.
"I don’t like other people touching what’s mine."
He didn’t raise his voice, but the warning was unmistakable.
"This engagement is business. Don’t cross the line."
Yvonne’s expression stiffened. Then she shrugged and forced herself back into a careless smile.
"I was kidding. Why are you suddenly so serious? You scared me."
Her words sounded light, but her nails dug hard into her palm.
Yvonne had loved Jacob for years. The business engagement had turned her secret wish into reality, but his heart still belonged somewhere else.
That was fine. She could wait.
Jacob’s attention returned to his phone, his brows drawn tight.
Claire hadn’t contacted him all night. She was really committed to this little act.
For the next two days, Claire practically lived in the design department, working nonstop.
The shirt she had designed for Miles unexpectedly opened up a new direction for her. It gave her an idea for blending luxury tailoring with modern, heritage-inspired design.
She sketched, erased, revised, and started over. She barely slept. Wendy had to bring her food and water just to make sure she ate.
But Claire didn’t feel tired. It had been years since she had lost herself this completely in design, with nothing else in her head.
Monica watched her work herself into the ground and laughed coldly.
"Claire, is all this really necessary? If you know you can’t do it, get on your knees and apologize. I’ll let you out of the bet."
Claire didn’t even look up. Her pencil kept moving smoothly. "Don’t worry about me."
"Fine. I can’t wait to see what kind of garbage you turn in." Monica’s face soured at the dismissal, and she walked off.
Somewhere in the middle of all that work, Claire made time to visit the hospital.
Her mother had been moved out of the ICU into a regular room, but she was still weak and slept more than she was awake. The private caregiver was taking good care of her.
Claire sat quietly with her mother for a while, gave the caregiver a few instructions, then hurried back out.
***
At Aethel General Hospital, Miles finished rounds with a group of interns. They hurried to record each patient’s vitals.
One of them flipped through a chart and muttered, "Shirley Kendall in Bed 6 is allergic to tropical fruit. We should flag that clearly."
Another intern looked over. "How’d you find that out?"
"I ran into her daughter outside the room this morning. Ms. Kendall, the one who brought breakfast that time."
Miles stopped walking. His fingers tightened around the chart in his hand.
"Claire was here?" Miles’s voice stayed cool, giving nothing away.
Hugh Logan nodded. "Yeah. She came to see her mom and left before rounds. Why, Dr. Warren?"
"No reason." Something dimmed in Miles’s eyes. "Get back to work."
He turned and went straight to his office.
Claire had come to the hospital. She had seen her mother and left without coming anywhere near him.
Two days. She hadn’t asked him about her mother’s condition. She hadn’t said another word about the shirt either.
Their chat had gone silent as if that provocative photo had only been a random prank she had pulled on a whim.
Miles stared at the conversation with Claire.
His phone screen reflected the deep frown between his brows.
He hated this version of himself.
’I knew this years ago. She’s always hot and cold. She gets close, then disappears whenever she feels like it. Maybe she got bored with me. Maybe she’s already found someone else to flirt with.’
Miles tightened his grip on the phone, his finger hovering above the screen.