4

The next morning, as sunlight streamed through the blinds, painting golden patterns across the bedroom walls. Naomi sat at her vanity, staring at her reflection in the mirror as she brushed her hair in slow, absentminded strokes.

She had slept—barely. Every time she closed her eyes, she was back in that hotel room. Back in that bed. Back in Damon’s arms, where she had surrendered to a desire she never thought herself capable of.

Her body still hummed from his touch.

A shiver rolled down her spine as she recalled the way he had held her down, the way he had murmured sinful praises against her skin. The way he had unraveled her, body and soul, until she was nothing but raw, aching need.

Her husband had never touched her like that.

Never made her feel like she was something to be devoured, cherished, owned.

Naomi exhaled sharply, shaking her head as if that would dislodge the thoughts running wild in her mind. She needed to stop thinking about this. Needed to push last night to the deepest, darkest corners of her mind and never let it surface again.

She had done what needed to be done. That was it.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

Standing abruptly, she reached for the cream-colored blouse laid out on the chair, slipping it over her shoulders. She fastened the buttons with quick, practiced movements, but even as she moved through the motions of getting ready, her mind kept drifting back to him.

To the way his lips had felt against hers.

To the way his hands had commanded her body, knowing exactly how to unravel her.

To the way he had made her feel things she had no business feeling.

A deep sigh left her lips as she tugged on her skirt and fastened the zipper. She needed to focus. The money was secured. The deal was done. Now, she just had to move forward and pretend none of it had ever happened.

"Naomi?"

She jolted at the sound of Eric’s voice, spinning around to find him leaning against the bedroom doorway, watching her with a soft smile.

Her heart clenched with guilt.

"Good morning," she said, forcing a small smile.

"You didn’t hear me, did you?" he asked with a chuckle, stepping closer. "I asked when you’d be collecting the money. Damon didn’t give it to you last night, right?"

Naomi’s pulse skittered.

She had been so lost in her thoughts—lost in him—that she hadn’t even heard Eric speak.

"I—um—what?" She blinked, scrambling for composure.

Eric frowned, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. "The money, Naomi. You said he agreed to help. When are you getting it?"

The money.

Right.

That was what this was all about.

Not the way she had come undone beneath Damon’s touch.

Not the way her body still ached in the places he had claimed.

Just the money.

She swallowed hard, willing her thoughts back to the present. "He…he’s handling the transfer today. I should have it by this evening."

Eric’s face lit up with relief. "That’s great news." He reached for her hands, squeezing them gently. "Naomi, you don’t know how much this means to me. To us. You’re incredible, you know that?"

Her stomach twisted.

Incredible.

If only he knew.

She forced another smile, nodding. "Yeah. It’s… it’s all going to be okay now."

Eric kissed her forehead, lingering for a moment before stepping back. "I’ll make us some coffee before you leave."

She nodded, watching as he walked away, humming softly under his breath.

As soon as he was gone, Naomi sagged against the vanity, gripping the edges like a lifeline.

It was over.

It had to be over.

And yet, as she ran her fingers absentmindedly over her wrist, she could still feel the ghost of Damon’s touch.

And she knew.

It wasn’t over at all.

----

Naomi stepped into the sleek glass building, her heels clicking against the polished floors as she made her way to her desk. The usual morning chatter of her colleagues barely registered in her mind—she had one goal today.

Avoid Damon Cross.

Pretend last night never happened.

It was the only way she could survive this.

The moment she had stepped out of that hotel room, she had sworn to leave everything behind. The way he had touched her. The way he had broken her down and put her back together, piece by sinful piece. The way her body still ached in all the places he had claimed.

She couldn’t let that night linger in her mind.

Couldn’t let him sink his claws any deeper into her.

So today, she would be professional. Unaffected.

Damon was just her boss.

Nothing more.

She squared her shoulders as she reached her desk, exhaling softly before placing her bag down. But the moment she did, her eyes landed on a small, elegant black box resting in the center of her desk.

Her breath caught.

No.

She swallowed hard, her fingers trembling slightly as she reached for it. There was a card resting beside it, thick and expensive, with his handwriting scrawled across the surface;

One night was never going to be enough.

Her stomach flipped.

Slowly, as if afraid of what she’d find, she lifted the lid of the box.

A diamond bracelet gleamed inside, catching the light in an array of dazzling reflections.

Her heart pounded in her chest.

This was… too much. Too intimate.

Too dangerous.

She snapped the box shut and glanced around the office, her breath coming in quick, uneven bursts. Had anyone seen this? Did they know?

Panic curled in her stomach.

She needed to get rid of it.

She needed to return it to him and make it clear that nothing was going to happen between them again.

Her hands clenched around the box as she stood abruptly, her pulse roaring in her ears.

She would take it back.

Tell him last night was a mistake. An arrangement that was done, and should be forgotten.

That whatever he thought this was—it wasn’t happening again.

But as she turned toward his office, the door was already open.

And Damon was waiting for her.