Amelia POV
There’s a knock at the door.
“I’m in here.” I call out rather quickly as if it isn’t already obvious.
There’s a fleeting moment of silence before his voice — low, deep and husky, with an edge of seduction— reaches me through the thick wooden door. “I can help you, you know.”
There’s something about the way he says it that makes my stomach clench in anticipation but I try to ignore it, staring dumfounded at the door with furrowed brows, reigning blissful ignorance. “Help me with what?”
His voice dips even lower “I can help you calm that raging storm brewing in you.” The sultry slither of his tongue calls out to that lurking presence that waits eagerly just below my surface.
I bite down on my lower lip to contain a shiver, determined not to reveal just how flustered he is ma
