Sienna woke up to the feeling of warmth—strong, steady, and far too close.
Her body tensed. The last thing she remembered was curling up under the blanket Damien had given her, determined to sleep on the floor.
But now…
Her head rested against something firm, something warm. Her fingers were curled into soft fabric. And when she inhaled, the scent of cedarwood and musk filled her senses.
Oh, no.
Slowly, she opened her eyes—and nearly screamed.
Damien was lying beside her.
Not just beside her.
His arm was draped around her waist, his body mere inches from hers, his breath steady against her forehead. Sometime during the night, he had moved to the floor too.
And worse?
She hadn't pushed him away.
Her heart pounded. She needed to move. She had to move.
But before she could, Damien stirred.
His grip on her waist tightened ever so slightly, and a low, sleepy murmur left his lips. His face was so close that she could see the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw, the way his dark lashes rested against his cheek.
She had never seen him like this—unguarded, peaceful.
And that made it worse.
Because for one insane moment, she forgot who he was.
Forgot that this was just a contract.
Forgot that she was supposed to hate how effortlessly he got under her skin.
Her body betrayed her. Instead of pulling away, she let herself stay there, just for a second, just to memorize the feeling of warmth before she had to face reality again.
But reality hit faster than she expected.
A sharp knock echoed through the penthouse.
Damien's eyes flew open.
And in the next second, he was wide awake, looking straight at her.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Neither of them spoke.
Then—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Damien blinked. "What the—"
Sienna shoved him away, scrambling to sit up. "Someone's at the door!"
Damien frowned, running a hand through his hair before standing. "Stay here."
Sienna barely had time to compose herself before he strode to the front door, his expression darkening.
She listened as he opened it, then—
"Ah, so she really is here," a deep voice said, dripping with amusement.
Sienna's stomach dropped. That voice…
She rushed to the hallway just as Damien stepped aside, revealing the last person she wanted to see.
Ethan.
Her ex.
The man who had left her heart in pieces a year ago.
And now he was standing in Damien Blackwood's penthouse, looking at her like she was his to claim.
"Sienna," Ethan said smoothly, stepping inside without invitation. "I heard the news. Couldn't believe it until I saw it myself."
Her pulse pounded. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Ethan's smirk widened. "What, no hug for your old fiancé?"
She clenched her fists. "Ex fiancé."
Damien's jaw tightened. He stepped between them, his voice like ice. "You have exactly ten seconds to state your business before I throw you out."
Ethan chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Relax, Blackwood. I'm just here to talk." His gaze flickered to Sienna. "With her."
Damien didn't move.
Sienna inhaled sharply. She knew Ethan. Knew that smug look. Knew he had only come here to mess with her.
And she refused to let him win.
So, before she could second-guess herself, she did the only thing that would make him leave.
She stepped forward, slid her arms around Damien's, and pressed her body close.
"You're wasting your time, Ethan," she said sweetly. "I'm exactly where I want to be."
Ethan's smirk faltered.
And Damien?
His body went stiff for just a second. Then, as if he had been expecting this, he turned to her, his hand settling possessively on her waist.
The heat of his touch burned straight through the thin fabric of her top.
Sienna ignored it.
She had to.
Ethan's expression darkened. "This isn't over, Sienna."
He turned and strode out, slamming the door behind him.
Silence filled the space.
Sienna let out a shaky breath, stepping back. "Well. That was…"
"Revealing," Damien murmured, studying her.
Her stomach tightened. "Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don't act like this means anything," she said quickly. "Ethan was just trying to get a reaction out of me. I handled it."
Damien tilted his head. "And you thought the best way to handle it was to cling to me?"
Her face burned. "I improvised!"
His smirk returned. Slow. Dangerous. "Is that what we're calling it?"
Sienna scowled. "Oh, shut up."
She turned to leave, but before she could, Damien grabbed her wrist.
Her breath caught.
The teasing was gone from his eyes. Instead, he looked at her like he was seeing something he wasn't sure he liked.
Something that intrigued him.
"I mean it, Sienna," he said quietly. "If he bothers you again, tell me."
She swallowed hard. "I can handle myself."
"I know," he murmured. "But that doesn't mean you have to."
Her heart skipped.
Damien let go of her wrist, stepping back. "Get some rest," he said, heading toward his office. "Tomorrow, we go public."
Sienna watched him go, her chest tight.
She had told herself that none of this was real.
That Damien was just a means to an end.
But as she stood there, pulse racing, she realized something terrifying.
She wasn't so sure anymore.