Damian Hart stood there, sleeves rolled up, the ocean wind tugging at his shirt . His eyes slid to me—slow, deliberate—heat curling low in my stomach. I should’ve walked away. Instead, I froze when he moved closer, his body brushing mine as the door clicked shut behind us. “Ava,” he murmured, voice dark enough to drag shivers down my spine, “you shouldn’t look at me like that.” “I wasn’t—” I whispered. He stepped in, trapping me gently against the railing, his breath warm at my ear. "If you knew the things I want to do to you, sweetheart… you wouldn’t be standing this close." My knees nearly gave out.