Clementine, a social media manager with fiery red hair and emerald green eyes, was a contradiction. Shy in person, her mind buzzed with fascinating trivia just waiting for the right listener.
Sebastian Montgomery as the tabloids dubbed him, was an...
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Clementine's dreams had been vivid ever since she set foot in London, but this one felt different. It was darker, richer, and electric with a tension that curled around her like smoke. The dream unfolded in fragments, each sharper and more intoxicating than the last, pulling her into a world where Sebastian Montgomery stood at its center, magnetic and inescapable.
She was in a dimly lit room, the kind where shadows stretched long, and the air was thick with the scent of whiskey and something unnameable, something dangerous. She wore a black slip of a dress, delicate and sheer, clinging to her like a whispered promise. Her bare feet pressed against cool marble as she moved toward him.
Sebastian stood at the far end of the room, a single light catching the edges of his sharp features. His suit was perfectly tailored, as always, but tonight it seemed more disheveled. The top buttons of his crisp white shirt were undone, his tie abandoned somewhere out of sight. His dark chestnut hair, flecked with strands of silver, was slightly mussed, as though he had run his hands through it one too many times.
He turned slowly, his piercing blue eyes locking onto hers. The way he looked at her—it was as if she were both the answer to every question he'd ever asked and the beginning of his undoing. There was something predatory in his gaze, something that made her stomach twist and her skin heat.
"You shouldn't be here," he said, his voice low and rough, like gravel beneath velvet.
"I couldn't stay away," Clementine replied, her voice trembling but resolute.
He took a step closer, then another. Each movement was deliberate like he was testing the ground between them, calculating the risk and choosing to take it anyway. The air seemed to crackle with electricity as he closed the distance, stopping just short of touching her.
"You don't know what you're doing," he murmured, his gaze dropping to her lips.
"Maybe I do," she countered, her breath hitching as his fingers brushed a stray strand of hair from her face.
Sebastian's hand lingered, his long fingers grazing the edge of her jaw. "You're playing with fire."
"Then burn me," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart.
The words seemed to break something in him. In an instant, his hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer until she could feel the heat radiating from his body. His mouth hovered over hers, so close she could taste the whiskey on his breath.
"This is a mistake," he said, but his voice betrayed him—it was thick with desire, with the same hunger that roared through her veins.
"Then stop," she challenged, her hands finding the lapels of his jacket.
He didn't. Instead, his lips crashed against hers with a force that left her dizzy. The kiss was fierce and unrelenting, a battle of wills that neither of them wanted to win. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him, and she felt the world tilt on its axis.
