Elena barely had time to change out of her work clothes when the door to her apartment burst open.
Damian Blackwood stood there, furious, disheveled, and dangerous.
"You didn't lock your door," he growled.
"I wasn't expecting a storm to blow in," she said coolly, tossing her blazer onto the couch.
He strode in and slammed the door shut behind him. "What were you doing with Nathan Hale?"
She raised an eyebrow. "You mean the meeting I recorded and sent to you?"
"You let him touch you," he snarled. "You smiled at him."
"I smiled at a man who used to be my fiancé," she said calmly. "You said it yourself, Mr. Blackwood, this is just a contract. We're not in love, remember?"
That was the breaking point.
In one motion, Damian closed the space between them and slammed her back against the wall. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to steal her breath.
"You keep pretending this is a game," he said, voice low, lips just inches from hers. "But you're playing with fire."
"And what if I am?" she whispered, heart hammering.
Damian's eyes burned into hers. His hand was braced beside her head, his breath hot against her cheek.
"I never said I didn't want you."