Emma stepped out of the bathroom, the steam from her shower curling behind her as she towel-dried her hair. Everything here smells like him, the shampoo, the soap and now even I smell like him!
Then she put on another one of Damien’s tshirts.
He wouldn't mind, would he?
The penthouse was bathed in golden morning light, the floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of the city below.
She padded barefoot toward the kitchen, drawn by the sound of muttered curses and the unmistakable crack of eggs being destroyed.
And then she saw him.
Damien Rodriguez—ruthless businessman, underworld king, the man who could make grown men tremble with a single glance—stood in front of the stove, glaring at a frying pan like it had personally offended him.
Eggshells littered the cou
