A/N: This book is supposed to be free from smuttiness. But it just keeps finding its way back š .
I'm not naughty in real life I promiseš«£
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Standing almost naked before Clayton Grey was never part of Maeve Davis's plans for the year. The air bit cold against her skin, sending shivers racing down her spine. Under his intense scrutiny, she felt smaller, exposed, and unsure. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around herself, as if that could hide her from his gaze.
Not even Fred has stared at her this way in the past. And to think they had done it for years...
"Do you have the script?" Clayton's deep voice broke through the silence. There was still no expression on his face, Maeve couldn't make out what he was thinking.
Maeve swallowed, eyes darting anywhere but at him. "Iā¦ It's in my bag."
Without another word, he picked up his phone, his tone calm yet commanding. "Bridgette, bring my wife's bag to my bedroom."
