Seeing that Julian Sterling had regained consciousness, Ethan Caldwell's eyes brightened slightly, and his lips curved into a faint, tender smile: "Sweetheart, you're finally awake? Does it hurt much?"
Julian looked at that smile, and it only served to irritate him further. In his eyes, it didn't look like a caring gesture at all. Instead, it resembled the smug grin of a victor parading his dominance over a defeated foe.
With a cold snort, Julian didn't even bother to grant the man an answer. He shifted his hips with a wince, turned his back toward the room to face the wall, and yanked the duvet over his head. He left Ethan Caldwell with nothing but the sight of a few stray tufts of hair peeking out from beneath the covers.
His posture made it abundantly clear: he had no desire to speak to Ethan.
