13 Chapter 13

Seraphina’s POV 1

My instinct was to refuse immediately. “I don’t have an appropriate dress for-”

“What you’re wearing now is perfect.” Damien’s voice carried that infuriatingly confident tone that made my stomach do gymnastics

routines I didn’t authorize. The way he said it-like he was commenting on the weather rather than completely upending my evening

plans-made me want to simultaneously kiss him and throttle him.

I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it, then opened it again like some kind of demented fish. “But I… Adrian needs… Ophelia will kill

me if 1…”

“Speechless omega?” One dark eyebrow arched in what I was beginning to recognize as his signature look of amused superiority. “That’s

a first.”

The smugness in his voice snapped me back to coherent thought. “Fine,” I said, trying to inject some dignity into what was clearly a

complete surrender. “But I’m not paying for dry cleaning if someone spills wine on this dress.””

The corner of his mouth twitched-not quite a smile, but close enough to make my traitorous heart do a little tap dance. “Noted. I protect what’s mine,” he said simply, and the possessive note in his voice made my knees wobble like a newborn deer’s.

The casual threat, delivered in that low, dangerous voice, made heat pool in places that had no business responding during work hours

The rest of the day passed in a whirlwind of focused intensity that felt like being caught in a very attractive, very expensive tornado.

Despite the mate bond crackling between us like a live electrical wire, Damien and I fell into a surprisingly natural rhythm. He was

demanding but fair, brilliant but not condescending, and when I anticipated his needs-sliding the northern territory reports across his

desk just as he reached for them—he looked at me like I’d just performed actual magic.

Meanwhile, Ayla had been a constant source of commentary all day, providing a running narration like the world’s most inappropriate

look at those shoulders,* she’d purr when Damien moved past my

for that file? And that smell-God, that SMELL. It’s

Perfect Man.*

tone down the lustful commentary?” I muttered under my breath during one particularly

to do

those hands look

“AYLA.”

the time evening approached, I was wound tighter than a

like a physical touch. When he spoke, his voice seemed to resonate

mate bond thing was going

breath during one particularly intense wave

09.18

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low in my

my racing pulse. The emerald dress still looked stunning, but now I could see the flush on my cheeks, the dilated pupils that betrayed exactly how affected I was by spending eight hours in close

door like a predator who’d been stalking his prey. He looked devastatingly handsome in his perfectly tailored navy suit, the fabric molding to his broad shoulders and lean torso in ways that should be illegal. When he offered me his arm with old-fashioned gallantry, the simple gesture

something different in his voice-softer than his

my hand on his offered arm, biting back a gasp as electricity shot through me at the contact. His muscles were like steel beneath the expensive fabric, and I had to resist the urge to run my

warmth.

ready as I’ll ever be,” I managed, hoping my voice

a thing of beauty-sleek, black, and expensive enough to fund Adrian’s college education. As he held the passenger door open for me, I caught another intoxicating whiff of his scent and had to grip the door frame to keep from swaying. God, he smelled incredible-like sandalwood and something uniquely masculine that made

coming to rest on the small of my back to steady me. The simple touch sent fire racing through my veins, and I had to

said finally, his voice carrying a note of curiosity that hadn’t been there

your son.”

caught me completely off guard. My heart stuttered, then began racing for an entirely different reason.

know?” I asked carefully, studying his profile in the

there was something in his tone-not judgment or calculation, but genuine interest.

warmth.

the fierce love from my voice, “and he’s four. He’s brilliant-scary

through my chest. “Sounds like he

two still

an instant. I stared out the window, watching the city lights blur past as I tried to find words that wouldn’t make me sound

know who his father is,” I said

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