Declan’s forehead rests against mine for one second longer, breathing hard. “Later,” he says, the word a rough promise. “I swear to God, later.”
“Later,” I echo, tasting the word like sugar and blood.
We untangle in careful, reluctant movements. He steps back first, dragging in a breath so deep his chest heaves. I smooth my hoodie down with shaky hands, trying to erase the evidence of his mouth on my neck. It’s useless. I feel branded.
Genny rips the drive from the computer and shoves it into her bra. She finally looks at us, her face flushed with stress. “If you two are done violating the sanctity of the workplace, let’s go. Security will circle back any second.”
“Go,” Declan orders, moving to check the door. He cracks it open, scanning the hall. “Clear.”
He holds the door. Genny slips out first, hugging herself like she’s cold.
I follow. As I pass Declan, our shoulders brush. The contact is small, almost nothing, but my whole body notices.
“You okay?” he murmurs, eyes still on the far end of the hall.
I straighten, lift my chin. “I just broke into your father’s office and almost let you talk me into round two behind the door,” I say quietly. “I’m… better than okay.”
His lips curve, the barest hint of a smile, dark and fierce. “That’s my girl.”
Footsteps. Voices echoing from the stairwell.
We split.
I move toward the elevator bank, casual, bored student leaving a meeting. Declan walks the opposite way, shoulders squared, the picture of a goalie heading back to the locker room.
Security brushes past me, breathless and irritated. Behind them, the assistant’s heels clack a nervous staccato as she rushes back toward her desk. I keep my head down, letting my hair curtain my face. She doesn’t stop. She doesn’t recognize me.
No alarm goes off. No one shouts.
We did it.
By the time I reach the stairwell where Clara and Adrian are waiting, my legs are shaking so hard I have to grip the rail.
Later, we’ll pick apart every second of this. Later, we’ll see what Genny pulled. Later, I’ll have to sit with what I just let myself do in the dark with Declan Reid.
Right now, all I know is this:
I am not a distraction.
I just helped light the fuse on the man who tried to make me one. And I did it with shaking hands, Declan’s mouth still hot on my throat, and my heart beating a war drum in my chest.
Chapter 26
Declan
Theshatterechoesdownthe hall.
For a second, the sound hangs there—glass exploding against tile, Zoë’s shriek riding the edges of it—and every muscle in my body tenses, ready for impact. Genny doesn’t even flinch. The second the screaming started, she was moving.
The key card I stole from my father's desk drawer slides through the reader. A tiny red light blinks, then turns green.
Beep. Click.
My thumb is sweaty on the plastic, but the motion is steady. Controlled. I push the door open and usher Genny inside.
The office is cold. Too cold. The air-conditioning hums like a low mechanical growl. The subtle, suffocating scent of his cologne sits over everything—expensive spice, bitter coffee,and something sharp and chemical underneath that I’ve never noticed before.
My gut clenches. This is a violation. This is the inner sanctum.
