We reached the ground floor, the echo of my heels following us until the glass doors slid open. Parked right at the curb was a sleek, black limo—long, polished, commanding attention even under the faint glow of the streetlights. Of course. It would be a limo.
Dominic’s hand was at the small of my back as he guided me forward. He opened the door with a smooth flick of his wrist, his eyes catching mine briefly before he held out his hand. Gentleman and tyrant in equal measure.
I slipped inside, letting him help me, the silk of my dress whispering against the leather seat as I settled in. A moment later, he climbed in beside me, the door shutting with a weighty finality that muffled the noise of the city outside. The world was cut off, leaving just the two of us in that dim cocoon of luxury
