Silas Thorne's fair, cool-toned skin made the scratches on his chest look especially prominent.
'Left by a woman?'
'He...'
'Is he seeing someone else?'
A man of his status would have women throwing themselves at him for his power even if he were big and brawny, let alone someone like Silas Thorne, who was blessed with an incredibly attractive face.
Ever since she first met him, he had never been short of attention from interested women.
It was normal for a man in his early thirties to have a few female confidantes.
But when they signed the agreement, it was clearly stated:
"During the term of the marriage, neither party shall engage in ambiguous relationships with members of the opposite sex, enter into a romantic relationship, and must remain faithful to the marriage."
'No ambiguous relationships? No dating?'
'But it didn't say anything about not sleeping with other people!'
In her memory, Silas Thorne was always so proper and self-disciplined. Joyce Monroe couldn't imagine he would privately...
'Doesn't he have that one old flame he can't forget?'
'Could it be,'
'that some people can really separate love and sex?'
Silas Thorne seemed startled by her sudden entrance, freezing for several seconds before pulling his clothes closed. Joyce Monroe whirled around. "M-Mr. Thorne, why are you in my room?"
"Mrs. Zimmerman said I'm sleeping here tonight."
"W-what?"
"My luggage and toiletries are all in here." Silas Thorne was fully dressed by now. "I thought you were the one who arranged it."
"It wasn't me."
How could Joyce Monroe have possibly made such an arrangement?
"I'll sleep in the guest room, then."
"Are you dressed? I'll help you move your things."
"Yes, I'm dressed."
Only then did Joyce Monroe turn around. She went to help him pack up his toiletries, which were already neatly arranged. "Mrs. Zimmerman must have unpacked for you. She doesn't know we have a contract marriage. She thinks we're a real couple, so she put your things directly in my room..."
"And here I thought you were being extra cautious, arranging for me to stay in your room to make the act completely convincing for our families."
Silas Thorne's words left Joyce Monroe stunned for a few seconds.
"It's fine if they find out. We barely know each other, after all. We can just say we need time to build our relationship and that's why we're not sharing a room. Both our families would understand that."
"I'll follow your lead."
Joyce Monroe helped him move his things into the guest bedroom, then hurried back to her room. As she undressed for her shower, the image of Silas Thorne undressing involuntarily flashed through her mind.
She liked guys with muscles, but not the overly bulky type. Broad shoulders, long legs, lean muscle, and a narrow waist—that was her ideal.
And of all things,
Silas Thorne had it all!
Though it had only been a fleeting glance, the image was seared into her memory.
If his shirt had been completely off, it would have been one thing. But it was the half-open, now-you-see-it-now-you-don't state that was the most alluring.
'If I'd come in a minute later, he might have been taking off his pants...'
'Joyce Monroe, you have such a dirty mind!'
'Get a grip, stop letting your imagination run wild.'
After her shower, she towel-dried her hair and went to the fridge to get a yogurt. Dolly, perhaps catching the scent, immediately climbed out of his dog bed. Next to his bed were several buttons.
They had recordings of various words: "eat," "drink," "play outside," and so on.
Dolly had been specially trained not to bark. Instead, he would press the buttons to communicate his needs.
He slapped a purple button, and a recorded voice announced: "Your emperor is hungry!"
After pressing it, he sat in front of her, a look of pure longing on his face.
This particular dog, Dolly, loved yogurt and bread.
So Joyce Monroe got another yogurt and poured it into his dog bowl.
She was in the middle of feeding the dog when she heard footsteps and turned her head reflexively...
...only to see Silas Thorne emerging, fresh from a shower.
His dark hair was damp as he was toweling it dry. He was wearing a set of dark, short-sleeved pajamas with long pants—perfectly normal loungewear. And yet, indecent images flashed through Joyce Monroe's mind. She cleared her throat. "You... showered?"
"Yes. The guest room doesn't have a bathroom." Silas Thorne's expression was placid as he gave her a fleeting glance.
Joyce Monroe then remembered her apartment had two full bathrooms: one was the en suite in her bedroom, and the other was the common one in the hallway.
"He likes yogurt?" Silas Thorne walked over to the dog.
Dolly was lapping it up enthusiastically, not sparing Silas so much as a single glance.
"Mr. Thorne, would you like some?" Joyce Monroe was referring to the yogurt.
"Do you have any ice water?"
"..."
Joyce Monroe poured him a glass of ice water. As she went to hand it to him, she saw he was on the balcony, video-chatting with someone.
"...He was the one pestering her. There are no other romantic entanglements between them. You shouldn't listen to the nonsense those gossip accounts are spouting."
'Is he clarifying what happened between me and Julian Griffin?'
"They're also saying her brother and I are close, and since we're both unmarried, we must be saving ourselves for each other. Can you believe any of that?"
Hearing this, Joyce Monroe couldn't help but burst out laughing.
Not only were there rumors about Silas Thorne and her brother, but a lot of people actually shipped them as a couple.
"Who's that with you?" A familiar voice came from the other end of the call. "Is that Joyce?"
"Yes."
Silas Thorne looked at Joyce Monroe. "My mom."
Joyce Monroe hurried over to say hello. Silas Thorne handed her the phone, taking the glass of ice water from her and taking a sip. "Hello, ma'am."
Even though they were married, she was still used to the old address term and hadn't changed it.
"You're back in the country, how come you haven't come to see me?"
"Work has been busy lately. I'll come see you in Northgate as soon as things calm down."
"I understand. You young people have to focus on your careers. Just don't work too hard. Silas will be in Graymoor for a while, so if you need anything, don't hesitate to put him to work."
Joyce Monroe laughed. "I can't always be bothering him. He has his own work to do."
"Silas Thorne!" the woman on the screen suddenly said, her brow furrowed in a stern expression.
"Ma'am..."
Joyce Monroe had just begun to speak when Silas Thorne, who had been drinking water off to the side, suddenly popped into the frame. The phone screen was only so big; for both of them to fit, they naturally had to get closer.
So close their shoulders were touching.
He had to tilt his head slightly to get into the shot, and his damp hair brushed against her ear.
The unfamiliar presence invaded her space again. One side of Joyce Monroe's body went rigid, but she couldn't pull away.
After all...
putting on a show for their elders was an agreement they had made from the start.
He had just showered, and a damp warmth radiated from his body. Yet when he spoke, his voice, chilled by the ice water, was all cool resolve...
"Mom?"
"You're that busy with work? Too busy to care about your own wife?"
"Work is busy, yes. But no matter how busy I am, nothing is more important than she is."
Silas Thorne had a refined, noble, and handsome face. His eyes were so full of expression they could look at a dog with deep affection, so when he said those words, it was enough to make one's heart flutter.
"You'd better remember what you just said."
"Mom, it's getting late. You should get some rest."
"What's wrong with wanting to talk to my daughter-in-law a little longer? We've only been talking for a few minutes, and you're already tired of me?"
"That's not it. It's just that Joyce and I are about to go to bed."
As he spoke, Silas Thorne tilted his head to look at her. "Isn't that right, darling—"
They were too close.
His breath was cool, but when paired with the word "darling," that coolness seemed to transform into a searing heatwave, instantly turning her ears bright red.
Just then,
a stray drop of water slid slowly from the tip of his hair and landed squarely on her ear.
It was cool, yet it felt scorching hot.
But then she dazedly recalled the scratches on his chest and gritted her teeth.
'Joyce Monroe, get a hold of yourself. This is a fake marriage, just an act. Don't you dare let your heart get swayed.'
'Especially not by a man whose heart and body don't belong to you!'