Penelope’s POV

He settled into the chair like a king settling into her own seat on stage and spreading out, legs apart, knuckles hooked under the arms of the chair as if the chair might splinter under his fingers. Only his eyes never left mine.

I strode toward him slowly, my hips moving in a deliberate way.

The air between us felt hot with intangible tension as if it would combust at any moment.

When I reached him, I didn’t climb into his lap. Not yet.

I leaned down and placed my hands on ...