Josefina looked around, dazed and utterly befuddled.

She blurted out, "Oliver, how did I end up at your place?"

Oliver sat up in bed, a silk comforter sliding from his chest down to his waist. There he sat, his torso exuding strength, his abs well-defined, oozing raw masculinity.

One thought looped in Josefina's mind: Oliver looked like the epitome of virility.

She shook her head, trying to dispel the unsettling notion.

Oliver caught her slight gesture, his gaze piercing as he asked, "What's on your mind?"

With a defensive edge, Josefina replied, "I'm wondering why you brought me here with less than noble intentions."

Oliver got out of bed, clad in grey sweatpants that accentuated his robust waist. With broad shoulders, narrow hips, his muscles were not overly bulky but undeniably solid.

He advanced step by step, and Josefina's hand was already reaching for the doorknob, but Oliver still managed to grab her slender arms. He lifted Josefina's hands above her head, controlling her body as she looked on with a panicked expression. "You think I can let you get away like that?"

His face was mere inches from hers, allowing Josefina a clear view of Oliver's wickedly handsome features.

His lips curved into a graceful arc, and his eyes sparkled with mischief as he scrutinized her face, his voice deep and seductive, "Don't you remember what you did last night?"

Just as his lips drew perilously close, and Josefina was about to knee his vulnerable parts, Oliver halted. "Last night, you slept in my master suite while I took the guest room. You came into my room, climbed into my bed, and fell asleep on my chest. Josie, are you sure you weren't trying to tempt me?"

Josefina was in full shock. She could never do such a thing.

"No way. I've always been a sound sleeper. I've been complimented on it, told that I don't move an inch or hog the covers."

A cold look flashed in Oliver's eyes as he stared into hers and asked pointedly, "Who said that?"

Josefina was taken aback by the swift change in his mood. What was he getting at? "You're hurting me." With her arms still raised and captured by Oliver's grip, she couldn't move.

Realizing his roughness, Oliver released Josefina's hands.

Seizing the moment, she pushed him away, flung open the door, and bolted. Despite her strength, it was clear Oliver's was overpowering.

Back in her own room, Josefina found herself in an oversized men's pajama set. Blushing furiously, she contemplated whether Oliver had dressed her the night before.

As Josefina sat on the sofa, a bit annoyed, the sound of knocking on the door echoed. "Ms. Josefina, Mr. Oliver asked me to bring you some fresh clothes."

She went to the door and opened it. A maid stood there, hands respectfully holding garments, "These were all arranged by Mr. Oliver, laundered, dried, and sterilized, fresh from delivery last night."

The maid's words were deliberate, to dispel any notion that Oliver kept women's clothing at his place - a detail he had instructed her to clarify.

"Thank you," Josefina said, taking the clothes and closing the door.

Upon inspection, they were her size, down to the underwear. Her heart skipped a beat. How did Oliver know her measurements?

Confused, Josefina took a shower and changed.

Downstairs, Oliver sat waiting. The elevator dinged, and he looked up. Josefina emerged in the ensemble he had prepared for her, a perfect fit. She was like a living mannequin, making any attire look exquisite.

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