Page 104 of The Owner's Temptation

His steel-gray eyes pin me to the spot. I feel warm instantly. Like heat is blooming in my chest and rolling downward with dangerous speed.

“Yes, sir.”

The words slip out before I can stop them. Reflexive. Instinctual.

His mouth twitches—just barely. Not a smile. Not quite. But something dangerous glints behind his eyes.

He slides a folder across the desk toward me.

“Here’s a list. The restaurant info. Find a supplier.”

Then he stands—slowly, deliberately—pulling out his leather desk chair and stepping aside. Waiting.

I blink at him. Once. Twice.

I don’t move immediately. Not because I don’t understand the task. But because Ido. And I’m not sure if this is just another job or some kind of silent punishment—or worse, a reward.

Eventually, I cross the room.

My hand brushes the back of the chair as I lower into it, his scent clinging to the leather, wrapping around me. That same stormy cologne that makes me want to close my eyes and forget myself.

But I don’t.

I keep my face neutral. My spine straight. My fingers grip the folder, and I focus.

At least on the surface.

Because inside?

I’m already unraveling.

The first three vendors are a bust.

Each time I mention the restaurant, the tone changes. The warmth in their voice dies. Some stall. Others go silent for a moment too long before scrambling for an excuse.

And when I mention it’s on behalf ofLucian Vale?

They practically trip over themselves to get off the phone.

Something is going on.

It’s not just about exclusivity or high standards. These people arenervous. Like they’ve been warned.

Like they’ve beenthreatened.

I sit back, frowning slightly. The rejection stings less than the growing realization that something is wrong. That whatever Lucian’s been dealing with for the last three days—whatever kept him away—is bleeding into everything.

I want to ask.

Where he’s been.

Who he’s been with.

If he was with someone else.

If watching me come undone on his camera made him snap… and he spent the next three nights fucking one of The Ledger’s more experienced companions just to burn it off.

The thought makes my stomach turn.

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