Knock knock.
Knock knock.
Sinclair's movements froze mid-action, his dark eyes simmering with stormy intensity.
His strikingly handsome face was a portrait of barely restrained fury, like thunderclouds gathering before a tempest.
Camilla finally caught her breath, her cheeks flushed as she pushed lightly against Sinclair's chest.
"Sweetheart!!"
What mortified her even more was— She had nearly lost all reason to desire, almost surrendering to him right then and there!
Sinclair held her gaze for a long, silent moment before finally reaching to refasten the button at her collarbone.
Then he sat back, his expression unreadable as he loosened his tie with a sharp tug.
Several tense minutes passed before the suffocating atmosphere gradually dissipated.
Camilla's breathing steadied, the color returning to her face.
"Sweetheart, let them in."
"Hmm," Sinclair turned his gaze toward the door, his voice dangerously low and hoarse. "Get in here."
*Oh no!*
