42

ROXANNE POV

I sat with both hands wrapped around my knees, my body folded into the corner of the long leather couch like I could disappear into it.

The living room felt warm, even with the early morning chill seeping through the mansion’s tall windows. Maybe it was the flickering fireplace across the room, or maybe it was just the man in the room.

Damien held two steaming mugs of coffee, one of which he handed to me. I took it silently, my fingers curling around the warm ceramic.

"You take it with a little cream, right?" He asked, settling next to me on the couch.

"I do," I said softly, sipping the coffee. "Thanks."

We sat in silence for a moment, aside from the occasional tick of the vintage clock on the wall. The rich scent of coffee lingered between us, blending with the faint scent of Damien's cologne; it was woodsy, masculine and something expensive I couldn’t place.

He glanced at the plate of biscuits that rested on the glass coffee table in front of us, then back at me.

"You d