Aria.
Lucien Blackwood was exactly what the magazines promised.
Brown eyes that seemed to measure every thought, dark hair that framed his sharp jaw, and a body that belonged in sculptures rather than real life. He wasn't just tall—he was built with purpose. Broad shoulders stretched the fabric of his finely tailored suits, arms corded with muscle that flexed when he moved. The moment he stepped into a room, the scent of his cologne claimed it.
I never imagined being the one he wanted—his bed warmer, his secret indulgence—until tonight.
After the gala, he drove me home. And followed me inside.
I hadn't invited him. That was the first lie of the night.
The second was pretending I hadn't expected him to step from the limo the moment I did, to trail silently behind me through the lobby. He didn't touch me in the elevator. Didn't crowd me. But I felt him—close enough that the heat of his body brushed my arms, close enough that awareness pulsed low and urgent between my thighs.
The hallway light flicked on. I slipped off my heels, placing them neatly by the door. My clutch followed, but my hands weren't steady.
"You're angry," he said, calm, measured.
I turned. "You left with her."
His eyes darkened—not with guilt, but with interest.
"I don't answer accusations," he replied. "I respond to honesty."
A sharp laugh escaped me. "You enjoyed her."
"Yes."
The word dropped between us like a live wire.
"And you hated that," he added, stepping closer, "because you wanted my attention and didn't ask for it."
My breath caught. He was too close. Close enough that the clean scent of him filled my lungs, sharp and intoxicating.
"You don't get to decide what I want."
He stopped inches from me, gaze deliberately lowering to my mouth.
"You're standing here instead of asking me to leave."
My pulse betrayed me.
"Say it," he murmured. "Say what you want."
The truth slipped out before pride could stop it.
"I want you to stop pretending you don't see me."
His fingers lifted beneath my chin, tilting my face upward. Not rough. Not gentle. Controlled.
"I see everything," he said quietly. "I just don't indulge everything."