Charlotte Lowell commands the silk trade of the royal court with a voice that brooks no argument, her gowns shielding the terror of isolation she refuses to name. When Robert Atherton arrives bearing the commission that will shape both their futures, his instinctive submission to her authority stirs a need she has buried deep.
Her every correction and quiet order draws him into a training of will and body that he has never admitted wanting. Robert has depended on no one for years, but the pull of her dominance offers a surrender that could shatter the self he has fought to preserve, all while the commission binds them closer.
In the dim fitting room, her fingers close in his hair and the documents rest untouched as the command forms unspoken on her lips.
