Was he being serious? Baffled by his query, Claudia subconsciously cast her gaze toward his hand, where the towel lay.

However, before she could discern the towel's hue, his large hand encircled her chin, preventing her from doing so. "Don't look now," he cautioned.

Claudia hadn't anticipated that reclaiming her phone would involve such complexities. She pondered for a moment and realized she had genuinely overlooked the color of the towel in his hand.

Yet, Bennett typically gravitated toward items of either pristine white or sleek black. If she ventured a guess, there remained a fifty-fifty chance of being right...

Just as she prepared to respond, the man interjected, "Should you guess incorrectly, Mrs. Dreskin, you won't be leaving this room tonight."

His words struck her with astonishment.

This time, Claudia's legs gave way beneath her, and she instinctively clutched at Bennett's bathrobe for support.

To her surprise, his bathrobe was so loosely tied that a single grab exposed his chiseled chest.

Staring at the sudden revelation of his impeccably sculpted pectorals, Claudia flushed with embarrassment. Every muscle in her body tensed as she stammered, "I... I'm terribly sorry. That was unintentional. Allow me to assist you in...

“It's of no consequence. I'm not feeling cold. Mrs. Dreskin, kindly answer my question first. What color is the towel in my hand?" he interjected, pressing her hand gently while concealing the other behind his back.

Claudia seized the opportunity to steal a glance but found nothing to discern.

She pursed her lips and ventured a casual guess. "White."

As soon as she uttered the word, the distinct scent of wood that had surrounded them abruptly dissipated.

Claudia, taken aback, gazed at him involuntarily.

Bennett smoothly donned the bathrobe she had inadvertently dislodged, strolled over to the bed and bent to retrieve her phone. He then extended it toward her, his tone devoid of warmth. "I don't have a towel in my hand."

At this revelation, his deep-set eyes bore no hint of a smile or tenderness. His demeanor was decidedly cool.

Claudia's heart constricted upon hearing his words. She accepted the phone and hesitated, asking, "Should I head back now?"

“Very well," he replied tersely.

He made his way to the sofa and seated himself. Abruptly, he uncorked a bottle of red wine that rested on the table.

As Claudia observed him opening the bottle and pouring himself a glass, bitterness welled up within her.

Guilt surged through her. She couldn't help but question if she had really been too harsh on him. It appeared she hadn't paid him much attention earlier.

She had just professed her love but she now seemed more engrossed in her phone. She tried to put herself in his shoes and realized she might have indeed gone too far...

The man on the sofa remained silent and refused to meet her gaze. He drank in solitude.

Inexplicably, Claudia thought back to the dog from her childhood days at her grandmother's house. Whenever she left, the dog would Lounge by the door, seemingly indifferent to her departure. Yet, its drooping ears and sagging tail would invariably betray its true emotions.