KIERAN’S POV
I stepped fully into the suite, but I didn’t move toward the bed.
I clamped down on the storm of emotions rising—outrage, indignation, confusion—letting years of discipline and control take over as my gaze swept the room in one controlled pass.
The curtains were shut. Lamps glowed deliberately dim. The air pulsed with the cloying sweetness of the aphrodisiac that coated my throat. It was so potent I had to deliberately slow my breathing to keep it from seeping deeper into my bloodstream.
And then I looked at her.
Celeste lay half-curled on the mattress, silk twisted around her legs. One strap had fallen loose from her shoulder, revealing the top curve of her breasts.
Her breathing was uneven and shallow, and her eyes were unfocused, staring at the ceiling.
She hadn’t noticed me. I wasn’t sure she even knew where she was.
