The silk blindfold remained firmly in place, keeping Clara completely immersed in darkness. Without her vision, every other sense reached a fever pitch. The heavy scent of rain mixed with the sharp cedarwood of Julian’s cologne, and the solid weight of the oak worktable at her back anchored her as the floor beneath her feet seemed to vanish.

Julian kept both of her wrists pinned securely above her head with one hand. His grip was broad, firm, and uncompromising, trapping her hands flat against the cold wood. With his other hand resting on her bare thigh, he paused, letting the heavy silence of the room settle over them. His thumb...