"No." The word comes out firm and final. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"Come on, Emma. It's been almost six months. Can't we be adults about this?"
"We are being adults about this," Donovan interjects smoothly, appearing at my elbow. "Which is why Emma is politely declining your invitation. Have a good evening, Josh. Michael, we'll be in touch about the contract."
He steers me toward the elevators before Josh can respond. My hotel room is several floors up, and we ride together in silence. I stand there, acutely aware of Donovan's hand on the small of my back, warm andsteady.
"Thank you," I say quietly as we reach my floor. "For what you said at dinner. You didn't have to—"
"Yes, I did." He steps out of the elevator with me. "That guy is an asshole. And everything I said was true. You are brilliant. You do work harder than anyone. And you absolutely earned your position."
We're standing outside my room now, and the air between us shifts again.
"Josh was my fiancé," I admit. “We were together four years, and…I found him cheating on me. Two months after we got engaged.”
Donovan’s expression darkens. “He’s an idiot.”
"He told me I was too ambitious. Too focused on my career. That I made him feel unimportant because I didn't need him enough." The words spill out before I can stop them. "For a long time, I believed him."
"Emma." Donovan steps closer, voice low—lethal. "That man is a fucking moron. Your ambition isn’t a flaw. Your independence isn’t a problem. Any manwho can’t handle how brilliant you are doesn’t deserve to touch you."
The words hit something deep inside me—an ache I didn’t realize I’d been carrying.
He steps closer—close enough that I feel his warmth.
“Because no one gets to make you feel small,” he rumbles. “Not anyone. Not ever.”
The words settle between us.
“And if that makes things complicated…” A slow, private smile touches his mouth. “Well, then they were already complicated the moment I saw you.”
"Don—"
He kisses me, his mouth claiming mine like he’s been holding back for weeks and just snapped the leash.
One hand cups my jaw, the other slides around my waist, pulling me flush against him—and his growing, massive erection—until there’s no space left between us.
I gasp, andhe takes advantage, tongue sliding against mine, slow and commanding.
He tastes like scotch and heat and control—every rule I’ve been trying to follow burning down as his mouth finds my neck—trailing open, wet kisses across my collarbone.
I shudder, fingers digging into his shoulders.
“Donovan…” My voice is a broken plea.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, eyes dark and wild. “Say my name again.”
“Donovan.”
“Good girl. You keep saying it like that, and I’m not going to make it back to my room.”
I arch against him, the heat between us simmering past reason, his palm sliding lower, over my thigh, up the slit of my dress until his fingers find my panties—already softly soaked.
He exhales sharply, his thumb flickingacross my damp slit.
“Jesus, Emma.” His tone is raw and filthy all at once. “You really are trying to kill me.”
His fingers skim the edge of my panties, teasing, touching where I need him most.
