Who Is Your Woman?

She tried to recall. "I slept…"

"Slept?" he interrupted her again. "With that idiot, Ivan Brown?"

"No, it's not like that," she retorted hastily, leaning back slightly to distance herself from his cold glare. She had no reason to feel this way, but she couldn't help it—being intimidated by him felt like a basic instinct.

"It was the first time I'd ever entered that place, so I remember everything clearly. I suddenly wasn't feeling well that day, and Ivan asked me to rest there so no one would disturb me."

Justin moved closer. "And?" His hand moved to the back of her neck, holding it gently as his thumb brushed against her skin. "What did you do?"

"I slept… I mean, alone…"

"You were unwell, stayed in his private place, and he left you alone?" Justin raised an eyebrow. "That's quite questionable, considering what it says about him as a man."