Ric doesn’t take his eyes off me—not for the next few seconds, not for the next few minutes. Every time I steal a glance in his direction, I find him staring, those dark eyes boring into me, filled with a possessive rage that sends a shiver down my spine. It’s not just a passing look, either. It’s intense, unyielding, and there’s a raw edge to it that shouldn’t tempt me, but it does. I can feel my pulse quicken every time our gazes lock, and I hate how much I’m affected by him, by this. I’m fighting a losing battle with myself, trying to suppress the heat pooling in my stomach.
I can’t immerse myself in any conversation after that. Every time someone speaks to me, their words float past my ears, barely registering. I’m too caught up in the memory of Ric — his face inches from mine, the wa
