125 Chapter 125

Seraphina’s POV 1

My phone buzzes against my palm, Damien’s name flashing on the screen. Emma glances over with those perfectly arched eyebrows, and I swipe to answer before she can make some snide comment.

“Hi.”

“I’m downstairs. Where are you?”

“Coming down now.”

The line goes dead, and something hot coils in my belly. Emma is still watching me with that curious

expression.

“Have a lovely evening,” she says with sweetness.

I grab my purse and walk past her without a word. Let her figure out what that was about.

The elevator ride feels endless. My reflection in the steel doors shows exactly what I expected-messy hair,

wrinkled clothes, exhaustion written across every feature.

Damien’s SUV is idling near the garage entrance, engine purring. He gets out when he sees me, and the sight

of him makes my breath catch. Gone is the business suit from earlier. Now he’s wearing dark jeans that hug

his thighs and a gray sweater that does incredible things for his shoulders.

His eyes rake over me as I approach, and there’s heat in that silver-blue gaze that makes me very aware of

every inch of skin under my clothes.

“You look like heaven,” he says when I reach him.

“Charming.” But I’m fighting a smile. “Is that how you talk to all your dates?”

“Just the ones I’m planning to take to bed later.”

My cheeks flush hot. “Presumptuous much?”

He opens the car door for me, leaning close enough that I can smell his cologne. “Am I wrong?”

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I don’t answer, but the way my breath hitches tells him everything he needs to know.

The drive is torture. His hand rests on my thigh, thumb tracing lazy patterns through the fabric of my slacks.

Every casual touch sends parks through my nervous system, reminding me exactly how long it’s been since we’ve done anything more intimate than quick kisses.

“Where are we going?” I ask when we turn onto an unfamiliar road.

“Somewhere with good wine and dim lighting.”

to get me

my thigh. “Planning to get you

all string lights and

place that practically screams *anniversary dinner* to

hostess greets Damien by name and leads us to a corner table that’s

Flickering candles, trailing jasmine,

I search for the right word as

“Romantic?”

was going to

obvious.”

the sound low and warm. “I’m

I like

“Do you?”

way he’s looking at me across the candlelit table

deserve after the day I’ve had. The alcohol helps loosen the knots in my shoulders, makes the

says, swirling his wine. “Tell me about your

besides getting locked in a closet by your perfect

locked you in a

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215

“Storage room. And

tightens almost imperceptibly.

enough to watch you two

“You were watching?”

I take another sip of wine. “You two make

expression now. “Are

it sounds forced even to my own cars.

I could fire

because I’m having an

if she’s making

his voice makes heat pool low

it, just

arrives-some fancy pasta thing for me, steak for him. But I’m barely

looking at me like he’s planning

staring,” I

we get home to show

to appreciate.”

clench involuntarily.

“You love it.”

love the way his eyes go dark when he looks at me. Love the way his

me feel like the most

at the

me home,”

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“We haven’t finished eating.”

care about

flares in those silver eyes.

home, Damien.

contact. Pays quickly, efficiently, while I

to

tension now. His hand stays on my thigh, but

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