I don’t know if he means the windows or the conversation.
He turns back to me, and for the first time all morning, he appears less like a high-powered executive and more like the man I met six weeks ago. The man who touched me like he already knew my body. The man who made me come harder than I ever have in my life.
I find myself studying him—his straight posture, the tension in his neck, the way his tie is loosened just slightly like he’s come undone a bit since Spalding left.
“How did you get my resume?” I blurt out.
“Through a contact at Harvard.”
“And whatmade you call me in for this interview?”
He doesn’t answer right away. Just watches me with a calculating calm that drives me crazy.
When he finally speaks, it’s quiet, soft. “I think you’ve already proven you deserved the chance.”
“That’s not an answer,” I snap.
“It’s the only one I’m giving.”
He takes a step closer. Then another until he’s standing right in front of me.
My breath catches. I try to laugh it off, to deflect. “Are all your job interviews this intense?”
“Only when the candidate is so damn irresistible.”
The words hit me square in the chest.
I should say something and back away. I should remember why I’m here, who I’m supposed to be.
But I don’t.
I stare up at him. He looks down at me like he’s about to do something reckless.
Again.
He doesn’t move to kiss me, not at first. Doesn’t pounce like the man who lured me into an airplane bathroom and made me forget how oxygen works.
No. He waits. Watches. Calculates.
I reach for the folder on the desk—something to ground myself—and his fingers brush mine. A whisper of skin on skin. A spark. Completely accidental.
Except it’s not. My pulse rockets.
Yuri’s eyes flick to mine before lowering his gaze. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m not,” I say too fast.
He tilts his head, stepping closer still. He doesn’t touch me, but I feel his heat like a fire. His hand lifts to my waist. Steady. Warm. Anchoring.
He leans in. Just slightly. Just enough.
“I can tell when someone’s afraid,” he says softly.
I don’t know what to say. I should be terrified. This man could destroy me—with one look, one kiss.
But I’m not scared.
And I can’t stop staring at his mouth. I lean in.
