Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 360

Chris grabbed the room key without even looking at it and slipped it into his pocket.

“Nice, man. You really went all out—already got my room sorted. I’ll head back now. I got off the plane and immediately heard about your mess. My suitcase is still at the nurse’s station.”

“Yeah,” Rupert replied, glancing at him, not bothering to say much more.

After Chris left, Rupert told Orson to have someone keep an eye on him.

The room slipped back into silence.

Sylvia looked a little confused. “Uncle Rupert, what kind of keycard was that?”

“Hotel room key,” Rupert said, as if that explained everything—which, of course, it didn’t.

Sylvia rolled her eyes and reached to clear the leftovers from the table.

“Come here,” Rupert said, nudging his wheelchair and pointing at the bench across from him.

Sylvia sighed, clearly not in the mood for more drama, but sat anyway. “What now?”

Suddenly, Rupert leaned in close. Sylvia froze, startled. She tried to scoot away, but he caught her chin, gently pulling her face back toward him.

He wasn’t rough—just insistent enough to get her to stay put.

Sylvia’s mind flashed back to their earlier kiss. She frowned and tried to look away, her cheeks burning.

It was only when she felt something cool dabbed onto her swollen cheek that she realized Rupert was just putting ointment on her face.

She quickly dropped her gaze, hiding whatever thoughts had just raced through her mind.

Rupert noticed anyway. Watching her squirm, he smirked. “Relax. With a face like this? Not exactly kissable right now.”

Sylvia’s hands curled into fists on her lap, her face growing even hotter.

She glared at Rupert. “Uncle Rupert, that’s not funny! I can do it myself!”

She reached for the ointment, but Rupert twisted away in his wheelchair, and in the scramble, Sylvia lost her balance and practically landed in his lap.

Rupert looked down, his grip on the ointment tightening, his eyes suddenly darker.

Sylvia wasn’t just pretty—she was carefully put together, every detail seemingly polished to perfection. When she tumbled forward, the loose neckline of her hospital gown slipped, revealing more than she intended. Even with her bra on, what he saw was enough to make him feel uncomfortably warm.

Rupert forced himself to look away.

The door closed with a quiet click. Sylvia rolled over, fuming. She definitely *was* wearing clothes!

But suddenly, a thought struck her. She jumped up, opened the closet, and spotted the clothes Naomi had bought for her after they’d left the cave.

She pulled out the lingerie—just a layer of sheer lace.

Might as well have been nothing at all.

Groaning, Sylvia slammed the door shut and buried her face in the blankets.

…

At the hotel.

Chris, exhausted, dragged himself to his room and opened the door—only to find chaos.

High heels. Men’s jackets. And, draped over a black motorcycle helmet, a pair of lacy women’s panties.

Classic.