Ethan Blackwood had no intention of letting her leave.
His fingers clamped around Naomi Hart’s chin, forcing her face toward his. Those dark eyes burned with raw, unfiltered hunger.
Naomi’s pulse spiked. *This is bad.*
Heat surged through her body without warning thick, insistent, coiling low in her belly.
Ethan watched every flicker of her expression. His cold index finger traced a slow path from the corner of her eye down to her chin.
“You only get to look at me,” he murmured. “Smile for me. Forever. Understand?”
Something was wrong.
That single thought cut through the rising fog in Naomi’s mind.
Ethan had moved too fast earlier. She hadn’t noticed the strange, sweet fragrance hanging in the air of the private suite. Now, with her blood heating and her limbs growing heavy
