"Designers pour their emotions into their clothes, don't they?" Lambert asked. "If you truly hate me, does that mean you'll be feeling that way the entire time you're making this suit?"
"No. Please trust my professionalism."
"Then what do I have to do to make you stop hating me?" His voice dropped lower, carrying a husky weight. "Please, just tell me."
His voice was impossibly smooth, deeply resonant.
And his tone was so gentle, so unbelievably humble.
Camilla felt her ears burn, a flush creeping down her neck.
He was looking at her as if she hung the moon and the stars.
Gone was the cold arrogance; in its place was an ocean of devastating tenderness.
What was he doing?
Using that voice to bewitch her, using those eyes to seduce her...
No. She couldn't apply a word like 'seduce' to Lambert White.
It felt entirely wrong.
Yet, the man sitting in front of her right now felt like a complete stranger.
She had never known he possessed a side like this.
Men were captivated by beautiful women.
But women were no different.
Everyone was drawn to breathtaking beauty.
And Lambert possessed a face that was almost ruthlessly handsome. Even Catheleen had said he was striking from absolutely every angle.
Not even the biggest movie stars could hold a candle to him.
And now, this god-like man was whispering to her with such raw devotion, his gaze completely tangled in hers.
It made Camilla think of the ancient kings who would throw away their entire empires just to make a beautiful woman smile.
Women weren't the only ones capable of bringing a kingdom to its knees.
A man like Lambert could absolutely do the same.


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