ng down the already-immaculate glass tables. Rich men like Damien Sinclair didn't live in m

t here to adm

ere to de

stack of books in his study when she h

en Sinclair leaning against the doorframe,

s this slow?"

ightened.

here for nearly an hour, and all you've done i

rt burning on her tongue. He

e thorough," s

mused. "Thorough? You're a maid, not an

-lipped smile. "Of c

ens were scattered across its sleek surface. S

touch

, cutting through t

a fr

e looming, dark and suffocating. His hand s

silence crackl

ed, he said, "You will not touch

lf to exhale. He's

she murmured,

hen scoffed lightly, turning on his hee

ing Elena gripping

. What the hel

m down, that desk was wh

she

o