His One Night Obsession

Dominic POV

I stirred in bed like someone had poured concrete into my limbs; they were too heavy, which was unusual for me. The sun’s rays shone into my eyes as I opened them, ringing off bells in my head. It was already midday, which meant I slept in far too late.

Wasting no more time, I propped myself up on the bed, ignoring my muscles groaning in protest. I instinctively reached for the small drawer by my side, opening it to see my gun still secured. I reached for my pocket to feel my phone still placed in the exact spot I slipped it in last night.

“What the f*** happened then?” I muttered, my brows pulled as I scanned the room.

My instincts were razor-wired; I don't sleep through the night unless I choose to. I usually detect the shift of air, the slightest weight change, a pin drop. How, then, did I not hear her slip out? That lapse was unacceptable.

Everything looked untouched, and my watch and ring were still on the nightstand. There was also no sign of a hurried search. The only thing that remained was the lingering scent of that woman, and it was sweet and maddeningly addictive.

My jaw tightened as I returned to the bed, gripping the sheets. I was so unguarded that I failed to hear her slip out of my bed and out of my room. Where did she go, and who the hell was she exactly?

What surprised me the most was… Why wasn’t I furious?

My hand stretched further, and I felt something soft brush my fingertips. I glanced in that direction, pulling out a scrap of black lace… Her underwear, which was on my side of the bed.

I froze, last night's events flooding back with a stunning clarity:Her trembling when I peeled it off… the way she arched into my mouth like she was drowning and I was the only air in the room. A deep, guttural sound of satisfaction rumbled in my chest.

She was definitely not a thief or a spy, then. Just embarrassed, which is normal.

A chuckle rippled from my throat at the thought of her scurrying out like a mouse, but a sharp knock sounded, breaking my thoughts.

“Enter,” I commanded, slipping my shirt on as three of my men entered with a deep bow.

Rafe, my right-hand man, stood in the center. He was broad-shouldered, wearing a look that flickered between concern and confusion as he met the calm expression on my face.

“Boss… it’s noon, and you didn’t respond to your check-in. We thought…” he began, and I raised my hand, silencing him.

I didn’t need to hear the rest; they feared I had been poisoned, or worse.

“I’m fine,” I said, pulling on my shirt. “Though I wonder what use you are if it takes you until midday to check on me.”

A chorus of apologies filled the air. They kept their eyes low as I dressed, but I didn’t miss the way they scanned the room, piecing together what happened.

Once I was properly dressed up, I turned to face them. “What about the club?”

“Everything is normal, boss,” Rafe said quickly, handing me a tablet with camera footage. “The lady walked out alone at 10:02 a.m.”

My eyes flickered as I watched her rush out the door. It was exactly as I thought; she was embarrassed.

“Poor thing,” I mused, satisfaction filling me on seeing how she limped.

“Amber,” I murmured, now remembering her name. It was fitting for her.

I thought it was business as usual: have a few drinks downstairs, then pick another entertainment for the night. But Amber proved otherwise; her presence alone had drugged me… her body had unlocked something in me I kept buried.

And after all that, all she left behind was that tiny piece of lace on my bed. I tossed the tablet, picking it up, and rolling it between my fingers… a low chuckle emanating from my chest.

“You can’t disappear on me, little ember.”

My voice dropped to a quiet, lethal rumble. “Find her.”

Rafe stiffened, but I paid no heed, moving past him to pick my things up from the nightstand.

“I want her full name, address, job, and any other thing there is to know about her by the end of today.” I ordered, buckling the Rolex back on my wrist.

Another who had been silent cleared his throat. “Sir Dominic, shouldn’t we be worried she’s connected to the Romano clan? They’ve been hovering…”

“If she were a Romano,” I cut in with a cold laugh, “I wouldn’t be standing here.”

“I want her found by the end of today,” I repeated quieter this time, leaving no room for question.

“Yes, boss,” they chorused, and with a flick of my hand, they turned to leave, shutting the door behind them.

I picked up the lace one more time, crushing it in my fist, feeling the echo of her heat. I then raised it to my nose, inhaling sharply, an ache surfacing below. I wanted her again.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand, the vibration sharp against the wood. I glanced at the screen, expecting Rafe, but it was a message from a London-based number.

Dante.

I didn't open it, because my cousin was likely sending another one of his scheduled status reports, or a complaint about a missed conference call with the London auditors. Though he was useful, in his own quiet, bureaucratic way, he was a world away from the fire currently burning in my veins.

My hand reached for the lace and I slipped it into my coat pocket, allowing myself a slow smirk.

“Run as far as you can, sweetheart,” I murmured. “But I will find you. And when I do… you won’t slip away so easily again.”

This room, this bar, this city… all of it belonged to me. And Amber Ross? She just made the mistake of thinking she could leave.