I knew that voice.
Damian.
Except… not really. He wasn’t even here. I was just imagining how he’d react if he knew where I was, if he knew what I was planning.
This was like a dream vacation, even if it wasn’t real-real. Traveling the world, working on art with someone who actually mattered. Someone who looked like he could pin me against a jet wall and call it team-building.
“As a married woman, did I need permission to travel for work?” I muttered under my breath. Then, out loud, all sweet obedience:
“Yes, sir.”
Caden’s amber gaze slid to me, sharp enough to slice my underwear drawer in half.
“No excuses,” he said, stepping closer. His voice dropped to that CEO register that made my knees want to write resignation letters. “If you can’t keep up, you’re out.”
Huh.
So dominating.
