I told myself I wouldn't see him alone again.
That was the lie I repeated all day.
The truth was, I felt Adrian everywhere, like a presence under my skin, like a shadow that followed me through the mansion no matter where I went. Every room held echoes of him. Every silence felt heavy with what we hadn't finished.
Vanessa was coming back tomorrow.
That thought should have been enough to keep me away.
It wasn't.
Night fell slowly, the sky darkening until the windows reflected my own restless expression at me. The storm from the night before had left the air thick and humid, charged in a way that made it hard to breathe.
I was in the library when I heard him.
Adrian.
His footsteps were unmistakable, measured, controlled, and confident. My pulse spiked instantly.
I should have left.
Instead, I stayed rooted to the spot, fingers gripping the edge of the bookshelf like it could keep me steady.
He stopped when he saw me.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
The silence between us felt different tonight. Heavier. Sharper. Like something stretched too tight.
"You're avoiding me," he said.
I swallowed. "You said we should stop."
"I said we should," he corrected. "Not that we could."
My heart slammed violently against my ribs.
"You shouldn't say things like that," I whispered.
His eyes darkened.
"I'm tired of pretending," he said quietly. "Aren't you?"
I shook my head, even as my body betrayed me by leaning closer. "This is my sister's house. You're my sister's husband."
"And my marriage has been dead for years," he snapped, a flash of anger breaking through his control. "She left long before you ever came here."
"That doesn't make this right."
"No," he agreed. "But it makes it real."
The way he looked at me then, raw, unguarded, hungry, sent heat curling low in my stomach.
I took a step back.
He followed.
Another step.
Another.
Until my back hit the desk behind me.
"Adrian," I breathed.
He placed his hands on the desk beside my hips, boxing me in again, the same way he had the night before, but this time, he didn't stop himself.
"I've tried to stay away from you," he said, his voice rough. "Do you have any idea how hard that's been?"
His closeness was overwhelming. His scent. His warmth. The way his presence filled every inch of space.
"I wake up thinking about you," he continued. "I fall asleep thinking about you. And every time I see you walking through this house like you don't know what you're doing to me—"
He cut himself off, jaw clenched.
I was trembling now.
"You shouldn't want me," I whispered.
His gaze dropped slowly, deliberately, to my lips.
"I shouldn't," he agreed. "But I do."
That was my undoing.
His mouth claimed mine without warning.
This kiss was different from the first.
Slower.
Deeper.
Dangerous.
There was no hesitation this time, no uncertainty. His lips moved against mine like he already knew how this would end, like he had already decided he wasn't walking away again.
I gasped softly, fingers clutching his shirt as my knees weakened. He responded instantly, one hand sliding to my waist, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us.
Every nerve in my body screamed.
This wasn't just a desire anymore.
This was a surrender.
I knew the moment he felt it, the way my body leaned into his, the way my lips parted without protest.
His breath hitched.
"Ariana," he murmured against my mouth, my name a warning and a plea all at once.
I kissed him back.
That was the moment everything shattered.
He lifted me effortlessly, setting me onto the desk, his hands gripping my thighs like he needed to anchor himself. The intimacy of the position stole my breath. I could feel how badly he wanted me, how tightly he was holding back.
"This is the last chance to stop me," he said, his forehead resting against mine.
I should not have said yes.
Instead, I wrapped my legs around his waist.
The sound he made was low and broken.
His control snapped.
The world narrowed to heat and breath and stolen touches. His hands roamed with deliberate restraint, as if he were memorising me, as if he were afraid this would be the last time.
Every brush of his fingers sent sparks racing through me.
Every kiss left me wanting more, and more.
This wasn't hurried.
It was intimate.
Hungry.
I felt like I was falling, and he was falling with me.
Somewhere in my mind, I knew this was the moment that would change everything. That once we crossed this line, there would be no going back.
That consequences would come.
I didn't care.
I wanted him.
and he wanted me, that was all that mattered.
The door slammed open.
"Ariana?"
Vanessa's voice echoed through the hallway.
I froze.
Adrian went completely still.
My blood ran cold.
"She's here?" I whispered.
"No," he said sharply. "She shouldn't be."
Footsteps approached.
Fast.
Panic surged through me.
Adrian moved instantly, setting me down, straightening my clothes with a speed that spoke of years of discipline. He stepped in front of me, shielding me with his body just as the door swung wider.
Vanessa stood in the doorway.
Her eyes flicked between us.
Something sharp flashed in her gaze.
"I thought I heard voices," she said slowly. "Am I interrupting something?"
The air felt suffocating.
Adrian's voice was calm, cold, unreadable. "You're back earlier than expected."
Vanessa smiled.
But it didn't reach her eyes.
"Yes," she said. "I was too excited to stay away."
Her gaze settled on me.
"And you," she added softly. "You look flushed, Ariana."
My heart pounded violently.
I knew then, deep in my bones
This was only the beginning.