Ella

It’s not a date, it’s not a date, it’s not a date.

I’ve been repeating the same thought over and over again. I know Sinclair is only taking me out tonight because l fell to complete pieces this afternoon. I’m still kicking myself, totally ashamed of my weakness and determined to prove myself to him after all. I spent the better part of an hour picking out my dress for tonight, eventually deciding on a little black dress that shows off my figure and makes me feel strong and s3xy, nothing like my usual self.

I wrap a heavy winter coat around my body after Sinclair’s makeup artists and hairdressers finish making me up, sliding on a pair of strappy stilettos and taking a few deep breaths before heading downstairs. Sinclair is waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, his emerald gaze raking up my bare legs and lingering on my coat, as if he’s tempted to unwrap it and get a preview of what’s underneath. It’s amazing how overheated he can make me feel from a single glance – he’s already seen me n*ked, and it’s not as if there’s any true feeling behind it anyway.

“Ready?” He asks, his deep voice making my heart stop for just a few beats.

I nod shyly, and let him quide me out the door with a hand on the small of my back. However as soon as ! take a step outside, I find myself backing into Sinclair’s protective shelter. A sea of reporters is gathered just outside the estate’s gates, cameras flashing and voices raised in shouts for our attention. It’s precisely like the scene which had awaited us outside the King’s palace, only this is a random Tuesday evening – at the place l’m gradually beginning to think of as home.

“Dominic?” I squeak.

“It’s okay,” His lips brush my ear as he tucks me under his arm, “your interview aired this evening, that’s all. Early feedback would indicate you’re a hit.”

“You mean, they’re here because of me?” I whisper, praying I can walk gracefully in my heels, and that Sinclair will catch me if I start to fall flat on my face.

“That’s right.” He grins, waving at the reporters. “If you feel nervous just take a deep breath, and remember it will all be over in a few seconds.”

I do as he advises, and sure enough the next thing I know, I’m safely ensconced in the back seat of his limousine. “Do you ever get used to it?” I ask shakily.

“No.” Sinclair admits, “but it gets easier.”

tell me where we’re headed, or is it another surprise?” I guess,

tell you.” Sinclair conceded, in a tone that sounded as though this was a grave sacrifice. “I think you’ve had

note primly, gazing

of his mouth tilts upwards, “It’s just

exclaim in

“Okay, okay. We’re going to a little French restaurant I know, and afterwards we’ll go

bursting with curiosity. “Is shifter food very

it’s not so different.” A low rumble, somewhere between a purr and a growl sounds in his chest. “And our dancing can be a bit more… Sensual, but don’t worry, I’m

have to squeeze my th!ghs together to relieve the

when Sinclair helps me from the car. Their cameras are still flashing when the hostess helps me out of my coat, capturing images through the glass of my slinky black dress and Sinclair’s ravenous expression when he takes in the sight. It speaks volumes that despite their blatant

I melt against him immediately, letting him ravish me for all to see. My heart is hammering

daze as he guides me to the back of the restaurant, trying to recall if I’ve ever felt so overpowered by lust. I’m a grown woman who’s had a healthy s3x-life, but ‘ll can’t ever recall feeling as though I’ll die if someone doesn’t make love to me in the next five minutes. But that’s

passed than I realize. We’re seated at the table, and a waitress is standing beside him, watching me

manage huskily, trying to pull myself

me?” Sinclair teases a moment

humans, the more time I spend with this man, the more I feel like I’m being drugged by

thank intended.

was talking about the menu, but Sinclair’s sultry reply comes back, “l always

coyly, “It’s awfully warm

look a bit flushed.” Sinclair observes, should I have them

I’lI be

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