The hour passed in a blur. Aria cleared the dining room mechanically, her body still humming with residual arousal, her mind scattered.
Had he really almost called her by her real name? Or had she imagined it in her overwhelmed state? She'd been so desperate, so consumed by sensation...maybe she'd simply misheard.
She shook her head, trying to focus. She was being paranoid. There was no way he knew. Her cover was solid. Her references were perfect. She was just Sarah Mitchell, a maid who happened to be falling dangerously hard for her employer.
At exactly 9 PM, she knocked on his study door.
"Come in, Sarah."
Sarah. Not Aria. She'd definitely imagined it earlier.
She pushed open the door. Damien stood by his desk, jacket discarded, shirt sleeves rolled up, looking at her with an intensity that stole her breath.
"Close the door. Lock it."
She obeyed automatically, her heart racing.
