The ride back to the mansion was quiet, the hum of the engine the only sound between them. Camilla was curled into the seat, her body relaxed, her lips parted slightly as she hummed a soft tune. Every now and then, she glanced at Cyrus, her eyes lazy with amusement, as if she found something about him particularly funny.

Cyrus kept his gaze on the road, but he wasn’t immune to the way her dress had shifted, revealing the smooth curve of her thigh. Or the way her perfume—a mix of jasmine and butter and something more tempting, filled the space between them.

His fingers tightened besides him.

She was...