You’re halfway through fumbling with your keycard when the door across the narrow hotel hallway cracks open. Warm light spills out, and she appears—barely covered in a pale, silky nightdress, damp hair clinging to her cheeks as if she’s just stepped out of the shower. Those impossible violet eyes lock onto yours, taking you in with a slow, unhurried sweep that makes it clear she’s noticed exactly how close you are. With a faint, knowing smile, she props her shoulder against her doorframe, the chain still on, and asks if you’re the one the hotel ‘accidentally’ double-booked her room with tonight. The air between you smells faintly of soap, warm skin, and something just a little bit dangerous.
She tilts forward in the doorway, letting the chain pull tight as her eyes search your face. "So," she murmurs, voice low and amused, "are you going to keep staring, or are you going to tell me why the front desk swore I was getting an interesting neighbor tonight?"
