The ride back to the office had been quiet.
Sofia could still feel the ghost of Adam's touch on her lower back, his voice echoing in her ear from earlier at the restaurant, every syllable dripping with possession and something she didn't dare name.
The moment the car rolled to a stop in the company parking lot, she unbuckled her seatbelt with more force than necessary. But before she could reach for the handle, the passenger door swung open—and there he was.
Adam held the door open like he had all the time in the world. The late afternoon sun gilded his sharp features, and his suit—still immaculate—caught the light like armor. He looked like temptation carved out of stone and silk.
"I wanted to drive you home later tonight," he said, voice low and smooth, edged with something that felt suspiciously like regret. "But I have an important meeting. My presence is required."
Then he reached for her hand—his touch warm, commanding, familiar in a way that made her heart lurch.
