The air shifted. Nicholas leaned forward, forearms resting lightly on the table. The candlelight caught his eyes, making them look darker, sharper. “Don’t ever say that again. You walked in with me. That was enough.”
The words hit harder than they should have. Clara dropped her gaze, fiddling with the stem of her glass. “You really think people see it that way?”
“I don’t care how they see it.” His tone was blunt, but beneath it lay something else—a flicker of intensity that made her pulse race. “If I bring someone into my world, they belong. No one questions that.”
For a moment, silence stretched between them, heavy but not uncomfortable. The waiter returned with plates—roasted sea bass for Nicholas, pasta with wild mushrooms for Clara. The scents rose warm and comforting, grounding her
