Chapter 4

Audrey stared at the large, extended hand. Her mind raced frantically for an escape route, but Julian was watching her expectantly. She had no choice.

She slowly raised her own hand. Her fingers were trembling visibly. She hesitantly placed her small, cold hand into Zane's large, warm palm, intending to do a quick, polite, professional shake and immediately pull away.

The moment their skin touched, Zane's long fingers immediately curled inward. He gripped her hand firmly, trapping her fingers in a hold that was far too tight, far too intimate for strangers meeting for the first time.

Audrey gasped softly at the sudden pressure. She tried to discreetly pull her hand back, tugging her arm, but his grip was unyielding. It felt like an iron vise.

Zane's rough, calloused thumb shifted. He deliberately stroked the sensitive, thin skin of her knuckles. The slow, abrasive friction sent a jolt of pure electricity straight to her core, making her stomach clench.

She shot a panicked, furious warning glare up at his face.

Zane didn't even blink. He simply maintained a flawless, polite smile for Julian's benefit, while his thumb continued its slow, torturous caress on her hand.

Julian, completely oblivious to the silent, violent war of touches happening right in front of him, enthusiastically clapped his hands together.

"Well," Julian said brightly, "now that introductions are out of the way, I suggest we head out to get some proper LA food. I'm starving."

Zane finally released Audrey's hand. He let his fingers drag slowly across her palm before letting go, leaving her skin tingling and her breath slightly uneven. He took a half-step back, giving her a fraction of space.

Audrey quickly shoved her tingling hand deep into the pocket of her hoodie. She clenched it into a tight fist, her fingernails biting into her palm to stop the trembling.

Zane turned his head slightly toward Julian, but his eyes remained fixed on Audrey.

"You know, Julian," Zane mentioned casually, his tone conversational. "'Mr. Kensington' sounds far too formal among friends."

Zane leaned down slightly, closing the distance between his face and Audrey's. His voice dropped an octave, vibrating with a dark, commanding authority.

"Call me by my first name," Zane demanded softly, his eyes locking onto hers. "Zane."

Audrey stubbornly pressed her lips together. She bit the inside of her cheek. She refused to say the name. It was the name she had moaned countless times in the dark, the name she had cried over for five years. Saying it felt like surrendering.

Julian laughed, patting Audrey's back gently. "Don't mind her, Zane. My sister is just shy around handsome, successful strangers."

Zane smirked at the word "strangers." His dark eyes flashed with a dangerous light. He silently challenged Audrey to keep up the act, to keep pretending they hadn't shared a bed for years.

Julian nudged Audrey again, a bit more firmly this time. "Come on, Audie. Be polite. Address my best friend properly."

Audrey felt completely cornered. The innocent pressure from her brother felt like a physical weight. Her cheeks burned with a toxic mixture of anger, fear, and deep humiliation.

She forced a stiff, unnatural smile onto her face. She looked directly at Zane's smug expression.

"Zane," she squeezed the word out from between her clenched teeth. It sounded harsh, clipped, like a curse word.

Zane's eyes darkened instantly with extreme satisfaction. Hearing his name on her lips again, even in anger, sent a predatory hunger flashing across his sharp features.

He leaned in just a fraction of an inch closer.

"Good girl," Zane replied softly.

The volume was so incredibly low that only Audrey could hear it over the ambient noise of the airport terminal. The phrase hit her like a physical blow. It was the exact phrase he used to praise her when she submitted to him in bed.

Audrey's eyes widened in absolute shock. Her stomach flipped violently. The incredibly intimate, dominant phrase caused her face to instantly turn the color of a ripe tomato. The heat radiating from her skin was unbearable.

Julian noticed her suddenly bright red face. He assumed she was feeling unwell or overwhelmed by the massive crowd. He immediately looked concerned.

"Audie, are you feeling sick?" Julian asked, stepping closer. He raised his hand, placing the back of his cool knuckles against her burning forehead to check for a fever.

Audrey quickly swatted his hand away, stepping back. "I'm fine!" she stammered, her voice pitching higher than normal. "It's just... really hot in this terminal. I'm perfectly fine."

Zane watched the sibling interaction closely. A brief, dark flash of intense jealousy crossed his eyes when Julian touched her forehead, before he smoothly masked it with a polite, detached smile.

Julian, trying to lighten the mood and take care of his guest, turned to Zane.

"Zane, I formally invite you to join us for a welcome lunch," Julian said warmly. "I know a great spot in Beverly Hills."

Audrey's head snapped up. Her eyes widened, silently pleading with Zane to decline. She stared at him, begging him with her gaze to say he had a meeting, a flight, anything. She desperately needed to escape his suffocating presence.

Zane caught her pleading look. His smirk widened slightly. He found immense, twisted pleasure in denying her silent request.

"I would be honored, Julian," Zane graciously accepted, his voice smooth as silk. "I have no urgent business in LA today. I would love to spend more time with you both."

Julian beamed with happiness. He grabbed his heavy duffel bag from the floor, completely thrilled that his two favorite people in the world were getting along so well.

Audrey let out a defeated, internal groan. She closed her eyes for a second, realizing she was trapped in a nightmare scenario, and it was entirely orchestrated by her own clueless brother.

Zane stepped aside, gesturing politely with his hand for Audrey to lead the way out. As she walked past him, she felt his dark eyes raking over her oversized hoodie, stripping away the fabric with hidden, possessive intent.