"Stay," she breathed, the word barely audible.
He removed his glasses slowly, folding them and setting them on the side table. He didn't smile. He never smiled when he was about to teach her a lesson.
Scarlett Sage rose, her heart a frantic drum against her ribs. And as she crossed the small distance between them, she knew the discipline she was about to receive had nothing to do with the car, and everything to do with the fact that she had never wanted to be told what to do by anyone else but him. scarlett sage daddy
Her voice was a careful whisper, laced with a performative innocence she knew he saw right through. He didn't look up from the book in his hand. Silver at his temples, glasses perched low on his nose, the picture of unshakeable calm.
Now he looked up. His gaze wasn't angry, which would have been easy. It was assessing. Knowing. He closed the book with a soft thump that felt louder than thunder. "Stay," she breathed, the word barely audible
"I know. But it's cold." She tucked a bare foot under her other leg, the silk of her robe whispering against the leather. "And you were taking too long."
"You have two choices," he said, voice a low, unhurried baritone. "You can turn around, walk back to the car, and wait five minutes. Or you can stay." He never smiled when he was about to teach her a lesson
Her breath caught. The trap was elegant. The first choice was obedience, a retreat. The second… the second came with a price she could already feel settling in her chest like warm honey.