The night was thick with tension.
Sebastian had tried to ignore it—to drown himself in whiskey, in meaningless conversation, in the view of the city beyond his suite.
But none of it mattered.
Not when she was just in the next wing.
Not when he knew she had spent the night with him.
Ethan Sinclair.
The thought alone made something dark coil in Sebastian’s chest, something primal and possessive that refused to be tamed.
She had let him touch her. Let him look at her the way only Sebastian was allowed to.
His jaw clenched as he stood, crossing the room in long, purposeful strides.
Before he could think twice, he was already at her door.
Already knocking.
The silence stretched before she finally answered, her hair tousled, her silk robe barely tied around her waist.
Her eyes widened. “Sebastian—”
He pushed inside before she could stop him, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click.
His gaze raked over her, dark and unreadable.
********