Page 88 of Julian

I lift my eyes to his.

“If you were not qualified,” he says evenly, “you would not be under consideration.”

The certainty in his voice… I don’t know how he can be so sure. “But you got me the interview.”

“Yes,” he says. “I did.”

I appreciate that he doesn’t pretend otherwise.

“But I do not decide whether you get the job,” he continues. “I made an introduction. That’s all. Anyone can make introductions. From there, it’s up to the person to pave his or her own path.”

“Really?” I ask.

“Penny Aura is not a charity organization,” Julian says. “Nor is it a company interested in appointing incompetent executives.”

That pulls a laugh out of me.

Julian’s gaze never leaves my face, though. “You earned that room today,” he says quietly. “What happens next is entirely up to you.”

He leans in and kisses me.

“Now, enough business talk for tonight. Let’s finish this entrée so we can move on to the chocolate lava cake I smell.”

We finish dinner, then move to dessert, lingering over another glass of wine. Percy eventually disappears for the evening after clearing the plates, leaving the townhouse wrapped in an intimate stillness I’m beginning to associate with Julian himself.

It’s so calming and yet… dangerously seductive.

I’m halfway through telling him about this exhibit I read about at the Metropolitan Museum of Art when I realize he’s listening but in that slightly different way he does.

His eyes stay fixed on my mouth while I talk.

“What?” I ask softly, self-conscious.

A smile touches his face. “You’re beautiful on an ordinary day but beyond exquisite when you’re passionate about a subject.”

I laugh quietly and glance down into my wineglass, but before I can think of a response, he’s already standing.

Then he reaches for my hand.

The gesture is simple, gentle, and yet my pulse races because I know exactly where this is going.

Julian says nothing as he leads me to the elevator, which whisks us upstairs.

By the time we reach his bedroom, I’m already caught in that hazy, intoxicating state he pulls me into so easily.

The room itself is magnificent, enormous in scale with soaring ceilings and warm light spilling across dark wood. The bed looks impossibly soft beneath the light of the lamps.

But honestly, I barely register any of it because all I really see is him.

Julian turns toward me slowly once the bedroom door closes behind us, and the look in his eyes steals what few coherent thoughts I have left.

Then he kisses me. Soft at first.

His hand slides along my jaw while his mouth moves against mine with slow, tantalizing patience, like he’s savoring me instead of rushing toward anything. The faint taste of red wine lingers between us, and when his fingers slip into my hair, a shiver moves all the way down my spine.

The kiss deepens gradually. The softness gives way to heat.

I know exactly when his restraint begins to crack because his hands are at my waist, pulling me closer, and the hard length of him presses against me through our clothes, making my breath hitch.