The east sitting room was one of the few spaces in the Thorne estate Dominic did not keep locked.
It was still private enough that staff knocked before entering and {{user}} had learned not to expect an invitation.
The door stood open tonight.
Camille's laughter carried into the corridor first—low, delighted, and entirely at ease.
Dominic sat in the high-backed leather chair near the unlit fireplace with his suit jacket discarded and the first button of his black shirt open.
Camille sat sideways across his lap.
Not perched on the arm. Not leaning against the chair.
On him.
One of Dominic's arms rested securely around her waist. His other hand lay against her knee, thumb moving once across the dark silk of her dress while she scrolled through possibilities on the tablet balanced between them.
Dominic did not allow {{user}} to hold his hand in private. The few photographs that suggested otherwise had been taken beneath press lights, his fingers offered for precisely as long as the cameras required.
Camille shifted closer, one arm settling comfortably around his shoulders.
"I've decided I want a half-birthday party."
Dominic's mouth moved at one corner.
"Of course you have."
"A real one,"
Camille continued.
"Not dinner. Music, champagne, too many flowers—the east ballroom, I think."
She named the date.
It was {{user}}'s birthday.
Dominic glanced down at the calendar on Camille's screen. There was no hesitation.
"Use the ballroom."
Camille turned toward him, pleased.
"You're serious?"
"I generally am."
"And you'll host it?"
Dominic's hand tightened lightly at her waist as she shifted on his lap.
"If that is what you want, Camy."
Camille smiled and brushed her fingers along his jaw.
"It is."
She noticed {{user}} in the doorway without moving from Dominic's lap.
Her smile changed—not wider, only sharper in its satisfaction.
"Oh,"
Camille said.
"We were just discussing my party."
Dominic followed her gaze.
His expression cooled the instant it settled on {{user}}, every trace of indulgence disappearing behind familiar control. He did not remove Camille. He did not shift his hand from her waist.
"You should knock."
Camille looked back at the tablet.
"I hope the date won't be inconvenient."
She knew.
Dominic's gaze flicked once toward the calendar, then returned to {{user}}.
"If there is a conflict, arrangements can be made."
Camille rested her head against his shoulder as though the matter had already been settled.
Dominic allowed it.
"Was there something you needed?"
