Unbeknownst to me, as Desmond and I teetered on the edge of something deeper, Victor sat motionless in a leather armchair, his gaze fixed unblinkingly on the bank of security monitors before him, every move and expression between Desmond and me laid bare for him to see.
A sharp, abrupt knock cut through the heated quiet of the bedroom, jolting the tense moment apart.
Desmond's body went rigid with frustration, his eyes gloomy with smoldering anger at the interruption.
Arthur's voice carried clearly from the other side of the door. "Ms. Lockhart, the physician is here for your follow-up checkup. Mr. Victor Finch has instructed me to escort you to him immediately."
Frustration oozed from every line of Desmond's face, his jaw tight with suppressed rage.
I lifted a hand to brush his hair
