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.”

get

thigh. “Planning

lights and candlelit tables scattered across a

practically screams

name and leads us to a corner

Flickering candles, trailing

I search for the right word as he pulls out

“Romantic?”

going to

obvious.”

laughs, the sound low and warm. “I’m not trying to be

I like

“Do you?”

me across the candlelit

after the day I’ve had. The alcohol helps loosen the knots in my shoulders, makes the candlelight feel warmer instead

his wine. “Tell me about your

besides getting locked in a closet

locked you in a

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215

hand. “Storage room.

tightens almost imperceptibly.

Long enough to watch you two

“You were watching?”

glass.” I take another sip of wine. “You

dangerous in his expression

it sounds forced even to my

I could

fire her because I’m having an

if she’s

in his voice makes heat pool low in

about it, just an

pasta thing for me, steak for him.

at me like he’s planning to devour me

staring,” I

patient man. I can wait until we get home

to appreciate.”

thighs clench involuntarily. “You’re

“You love it.”

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

whisper. Love the way he makes me feel like the most desirable woman in

apart at

home,”

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“We haven’t finished eating.”

don’t care about

his expression. Heat flares in those silver

me home, Damien.

the check without breaking eye contact. Pays quickly, efficiently, while I sit there

to

is charged with a different kind of tension now. His hand stays on my thigh,

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