Caspian leaned back against the leather chair, his gaze steady as he watched Felicia enter the basement. She always had a way of making an entrance—confident, unrushed, entirely aware of the effect she had.
Tonight was no different. She walked toward him, a slow smirk playing on her lips, her silk robe barely concealing the curves beneath.
“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” she mused, stepping closer.
Caspian tilted his head slightly, watching her. “I don’t talk just to fill silence.”
Felicia hummed, reaching for the belt of her robe, letting it slip open just enough to tease. “Maybe not, but I think you like being talked to.”
She let the robe fall, revealing the deep-red lace underneath. Caspian’s gaze flicked over her, appreciating, assessing—but not reacting. Not yet. Felicia no
