The storm outside had settled into a steady drizzle, raindrops tapping against the cabin windows like a steady heartbeat. Inside, the air was thick—heated—with something far more dangerous. Amelia lay tangled in the sheets, her skin still humming from the last time Dominic had touched her. But it wasn’t enough.
It would never be enough.
She turned onto her side, watching him. He was lying next to her, one arm draped over his forehead, his body a masterpiece of scars and muscle. His breathing was slow, measured—but she knew he wasn’t asleep.
“Dominic.” Her voice was soft, but insistent.
His dark eyes flickered open, locking onto hers.
The tension between them crackled, thick as the storm clouds outside.
She should have been exhausted. She should have been thinking about what came next
