The air in the room grew thick and heavy, charged with a new and unspoken understanding that made every surface seem closer, every breath a shared event. He watched her from the doorway, his gaze a tangible heat that slid over the curve of her shoulder and down the length of her spine as she pretended to read. A slow, deliberate smile touched his lips, a silent command that needed no words and brooked no argument, compelling her to rise and turn toward him. The simple cotton of her dress felt impossibly thin, a flimsy barrier agat the intensity of his appraisal, and she felt a flush bloom deep within her core. Her heartbeat was a frantic drum agat her ribs, a wild rhythm that seemed to sync with the deliberate pace of his approaching footsteps. When his hand finally made contact, it was not a question but a claiming, his palm searing through the fabric to mold the gentle swell of her hip. A soft, involuntary sound escaped her throat, part surrender and part anticipation, as his other hand tangled in her hair, tilting her head back. The scent of him, clean and masculine, filled her senses, drowning out all other thought but the promise of his mouth descending toward hers. In that suspended moment, the old rules dissolved completely, replaced by the thrilling, terrifying certainty of his dominion and her willing capitulation to it.
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