Sinclair
I’m sitting in my office, speaking with my cabinet, when Ella’s delicious scent fills my nose. I’ve been thinking about her on and off all morning, wondering how she took the news of the interview, and hating that I hadn’t been able to tell her about it in person. Normally I wouldn’t do such a thing, but I’d needed to check in with my guards about their investigation into the intruder, and she’d been sleeping so sweetly that I couldn’t bear to wake her.
I can sense how close she is now, and wonder if something went wrong. I’m already on my feet when I hear my assistant encouraging her to stay, “No, he’ll want to see you, just wait one moment.”
“I’m sorry, it’s really not urgent,” Ella is protesting. “I should have known he’d be busy.”
She’s retreating, her delicate footsteps
