“Yes, if you’re comfortable with the idea.”

Am I comfortable with the idea?

Before Ford’s ball, the answer would have been a definite no. I glance around the table and take in every man—from Liam in his impeccable suit to Sebastian in his signature ripped jeans.

Mr. Bordeaux and his rigid indifference.

Vance and the flirty curve of his lips.

Pax epitomizing nefarious black.

They’ve all seen me naked, and maybe that’s why the idea of an audience isn’t as upsetting as it used to be.

The glower on Sebastian’s face tells a different story. “Are you going to stick to just watching?”

“If that’s what Novalee prefers, then I will keep my hands to myself.” Tatum quirks a brow at Sebastian. “Does that sound okay with you?”

“I’m not bothered by other men watching her come undone for me.” Sebastian throws a pointed glance in Liam’s direction, and some of the chancellor’s smugness disappears.

Tatum nods. “It’s settled. Sebastian will accompany us to Los Angeles.”