Chapter 4 About to Fall

The clock on the wall flickered past seven.

The office was nearly silent now-just the whisper of the city through the windows and the occasional soft tap of Emery's fingers against her keyboard. Her eyes hurt from staring too long at the screen, but she didn't stop. Not because of the unfinished spreadsheet open in front of her, but because she knew he was still here.

And so was the tension.

Damien hadn't spoken since his last meeting ended an hour ago. He sat behind his desk, suit jacket off, sleeves rolled back to his forearms, the top two buttons of his shirt undone. He looked tired-but powerful. Relaxed-but dangerous.

She tried not to look but she failed.

Her stomach fluttered every time his gaze flicked up-those dark, unreadable eyes that saw far too much.

"You don't have to stay this late," he said at last, his voice low and soft, pulling her attention like a magnet.

I know," she replied quietly. "I wanted to finish this."

He stood slowly, stretching his neck from side to side before moving to the wine cart tucked beside his bookshelf.

"Wine?" he asked, pouring a glass without waiting for an answer.

Her lips parted. "I... I'm still working."

He turned, glass in hand, and walked toward her.

"But you're not just my employee anymore, are you?"

She stiffened slightly, unsure if that was a question or a challenge. "What am I, then?"

Damien stopped a few feet away, wine glass forgotten in his hand. His gaze dropped to her lips, then lower, lingering in a way that made her blood heat up slowly.

You're the first thing in years I can't control."

The air between them snapped tight.

Emery stood slowly from her chair, pulse pounding in her ears. "You barely know me."

His voice dropped. "I know enough. You don't flinch when I raise my voice. You don't try to impress me. You're smart, stubborn, and you walk around here like you don't belong, even though you do. You're not intimidated by me. And that-" he paused, stepping closer, "-makes me want you even more."

Her breath caught.

The wine glass in his hand found the edge of her desk. His fingers-long, strong, too careful-hovered just over her wrist before brushing it softly.

"I shouldn't be doing this," he murmured.

"But you are," she whispered.

The air thickened with want.

Emery felt her body sway toward his without meaning to, like her skin knew something her mind wouldn't dare admit. She hadn't planned this. Hadn't even wanted it, not really. But he was everywhere now-inside her head, her chest, beneath her skin.

I want you to leave," he said suddenly, eyes locked on hers. "Because if you don't, I'm going to kiss you."

She didn't move.

"Emery." His voice was rough now, unsteady in a way that made her ache. "Say something."

"I don't want to leave."

That was it.

Damien's hand moved to her face, fingers tilting her chin. And then his mouth was on hers-firm, warm, overwhelming. He kissed like he ruled everything, even this moment. His hands slid into her hair, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss until she was breathless.

And God-she kissed him back like she'd been waiting her whole life to.

When they broke apart, she clutched the edge of the desk for balance. Her lips were swollen. Her heart, unsteady.

He looked at her like she was already his.

"You ruin every rule I've ever lived by," he said hoarsely.

She reached up, brushing his cheek with the back of her fingers. "Then maybe it's time you stop living by rules."

His eyes searched hers, something raw and unfamiliar rising to the surface.

Then the moment snapped.

The sound of a phone buzzing from his desk. Harsh. Vibrating. A reminder of the world waiting beyond this room.

Damien didn't answer it. But the spell like lure had broken.

He stepped back, jaw clenched. "This can't happen again."

But Emery saw the lie in his eyes. Heard it in the way his voice wavered. Felt it in the way he still looked at her like he was starving.

So she gave him a smile-quiet, soft, knowing.

"We'll see."

And walked out.