“What do you mean?” he demands, turning and looming over me, obsidian eyes boring into mine while the heady scent of his cologne infiltrates my senses.
The elevator dings, snapping me out of my head again. I turn, grateful for the opportunity to escape.
Except Alaric moves faster, reaching around me and hitting the close-door button again, then selecting the lobby as our next destination.
We’re descending before I can process his actions.
“Are you serious?” I whip my head around to glare at the man I can’t allow myself to give in to.
“Completely,” he says, his pupils blown out.
Huffing, I rescan my room key and select my floor again.
“We’re not doing this,” I tell him, positioning myself in front of the panel of buttons so he can’t reroute us again.
He closes the space between us in two strides, undeterred, crowding me until my bare back is pressed flat on the cold metal.
I must hit something, because the elevator dings and the doors start to open once more.
Wide-eyed, Alaric jolts back, retreating to the opposite corner of the tight space. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his slacks, all his attention focused on his feet.
Frustration rolls through me. This is why we can’t even entertain the idea of exploring our attraction. The way he just reacted? The adrenaline sizzling through my veins at the prospect of being caught?
The idea of sneaking around isn’t sexy or fun. Not to me. There’s too much on the line. Between his reputation and career, and my mental health and self-confidence, we can never be more than work colleagues and casual acquittances.
Except it’s too late. We’re alreadymore. Whatever’s happening between us has already pushed past the boundaries I pathetically keep trying to maintain.
When no one immediately enters the elevator, he lifts his head, hiseyes flitting to me and the panel of buttons before a lightbulb goes off and he realizes why we stopped.
His jaw ticks as he glares into the empty hall.
The doors close in slow motion.
We’re alone once again.
He stalks toward me with an aggressive, tenacious hunger blazing behind his eyes.
My every cell liquefies into molten lust.
My belly warms, the tingle between my thighs threatening to ruin my underwear. Simply being in this man’s proximity has me coiling into a mess of desire.
I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t crave his touch or delight in his attention. His expression is pure need. He’s looking at me like he wants to devour me whole.
Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I turn away.
He crowds me once more, wraps a strong arm around my waist, and pulls me away from the wall.
His large palm rests against my bare back, thanks to the low cutout of my dress, his warmth urging me to slink closer. And I do.
To be wanted, to be seen and desired by a man like him, causes a thrill to rush through me.
Leaning forward, he peers over my shoulder and jabs at a button on the panel.
The elevator comes to an abrupt halt.
In a tantalizingly slow retreat, he stands to full height and grips my chin. Tilting my head back, he forces me to make eye contact.
“We’re not doingwhat, exactly, Evangeline?”
