The suite was quiet—too quiet. Damian stood near the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, staring out over the city skyline like it held answers to questions he refused to ask aloud.
Lena padded in barefoot, her silk robe tied loosely around her waist, the fabric slipping off one shoulder. The air between them was thick, simmering with tension that hadn’t eased since the kiss at the gallery.
That kiss had been anything but fake.
He’d kissed her like she belonged to him.
And then walked away, cold as ever.
But she wasn’t the same woman she’d been when they first met. She wasn’t going to tiptoe around his control anymore.
“I thought you didn’t do public displays,” she said lightly, leaning against the doorway. “But I guess you’re full of surprises.”
Damian turned his head slowly, his gaz
