Camilla

I didn’t even hear him come back in.

I had been fixing my earrings, doing one last check in the floor-length mirror, smoothing my dress, the obsidian silk clinging to every damn place it shouldn’t. I’d been trying to steady my breathing. And then I felt it. His stare.

It landed like a hand pressed between my shoulder blades. Heat pouring down my spine in response. My heart stalled, then thundered so loud I could feel it in my throat.

I didn’t turn around right away. Because I knew. I knew it was him.

I could smell his cologne. That dark, arrogant blend of cedar and spice and money....