21

Dean saw that Joy was indeed apologetic and sober, and gave her his room number.

It was better she come to his room than be outside, being teased by those young nobles.

Not long after Dean hung up the phone, the doorbell rang.

Dean discarded the towel he was using to dry his hair, fastening his bathrobe belt as he opened the door.

Joy, standing outside, was hanging her head low, her hands intertwined in front of her, looking like a small, guilty child. "Sir, everything I said earlier was a hallucination caused by the alcohol. I shouldn't have disrespected you. With your abilities, you would never need to be kept by anyone else. I was just chasing pie in the sky... Ah!"

Having finished her rehearsed apology, Joy looked up to see Dean, half-dressed in his bathrobe, leaning against the doorway. His black hair was slightly damp, droplets of water were on his sexy collarbone, and his bathrobe was half open, revealing his toned abs.