Chapter 100: A Crime Of Passion
Roman’s hand rested firmly on my waist as he steered me through the polished glass doors of the restaurant. His touch was casual on the surface, but I knew better—Roman never did anything casually. Even here, in a place of white tablecloths and clinking wine glasses, he carried himself like a man staking his claim.
I, on the other hand, was a mess. My free hand kept fussing with my hair, then my skirt, then checking the buttons of my blouse. Every polished surface we passed caught me in it like a mirror, further enhancing my fear that people would know what went down in his office.
“Stop fussing, Sav.” Roman’s voice was low, threaded with amusement as he leaned down to my ear. “You look perfect.”
“You always say that.”
“Because it’s always true.”
I
