Maya’s POV
The silence inside the car had been louder than any noise.
It clung to her skin long after they were dropped off at the hospital — the scent of expensive leather, the low hum of the engine, and most of all… him.
Damien Blackwood.
She’d been close to him. Too close.
Her skin still burned. Every nerve lit up like a fuse had been sparked and then left to smolder.
He hadn’t even looked at her—not really. Just a curt nod. A single word: “Morning.”
Low and smooth, like gravel wrapped in silk. Lethal and devastating.
But that brief contact?
That accidental graze of his thigh against hers, the heat of his body seeping through their clothes, the faintest brush of her shoulder against his chest—
It had sent something wild and shameful racing through her blood.
A jolt. A rush. A
