No message yet.
An opportunity.
If I left now, before he sent the address, before the next move was made, then perhaps this whole thing could still shift in my favor. My heart began to pound, a decision forming fast and reckless. I stepped out of the queue, turned sharply toward the door, and collided straight into someone…someone solid.
Strong hands caught my arms before I could stumble backward, steadying me with unyielding ease. Heat radiated through the thin fabric of my sleeve, immediate and unmistakable.
“Careful,”came a low voice near my ear, smooth and close enough that the sound brushed against my skin.
My breath caught before I looked up slowly.
Oblivion stood before me, utterly composed, as though he had materialized from the very air itself. The same immaculate suit, dark and severe against the soft café lighting, drawing every line of his broad frame into sharper relief. His presence did not belong in a space like this, and yet it dominated it all the same.
His gaze flicked briefly to my hand, thumb adjusting slightly against my arm where he held me, as though he had felt the tension there.
Then his eyes returned to mine.
A slow, knowing smile curved his mouth, patient and entirely unsurprised. As if he had known my intentions all along.
I knew it from the quiet certainty in his voice when he asked,
“Change of heart, little Inanna?”
21
FORBIDDEN DESIRES
For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.
The café noise seemed to dim around us, like someone had lowered the volume on the world. I was still half-caught in his grip, his hands firm around my arms, heat bleeding through the thin fabric of my dress.
Close.
Too close.
Close enough that I could see the faint shadow along his jaw, the slight darkening of his lashes where they framed those pale blue eyes.
And I was staring. Not in fear and not in defiance.
Just…staring.
Because there was something in his expression that stole thought from me entirely. A quiet intensity, like a claim he hadn’t yet voiced. My pulse thudded against my ribs as I realized I wasn’t trying to step away. I wasn’t trying to break his hold. I was simply looking up at him like some foolish girl who had never seen a man before.
But what unsettled me most was that, for one fleeting and reckless second, I wanted him to kiss me. The thought strucklike lightning, sudden and impossible to ignore. Yet I didn’t even question it like I should have done. Didn’t question why the crowded café had faded to nothing. Didn’t question why my body leaned into him instead of away.
I did, however, question why his gaze suddenly darkened.
“You shouldn’t look at me like that, Eliza.”The words came low, almost rough, threaded with warning.That was when I felt it. The tension in his hands.Not possessive, not cruel, but deliberately controlled. As if he were holding something back with visible effort and my breath hitched as instinct finally returned. However, the second I tried to step back, his eyes glowed enough to have me tensing in his hold as he created resistance.
It wasn’t forceful but, instead, just a subtle tightening of his fingers around my arms. As though his body had reacted before his mind allowed his hands to release me and, for a fraction of a second, we both felt it. This undeniable pull between us, one, it seemed, we both questioned.
Then, he let go.
Although, he didn’t do so abruptly or carelessly, but instead with intention. As though he were peeling his hands away from something far more dangerous than a mortal woman in a coffee shop.
I swallowed and took a half-step back, heat still prickling across my skin. He shifted first, guiding me with a light pressure at my elbow, back toward the queue as if this were the most natural continuation in the world. The line had moved but people had barely glanced at us. Life had just carried on, unaware of the fracture that had just opened and closed between us.
He then stepped in behind me, close enough that I could feel the warmth of him along my spine. Close enough that retreat was no longer an option without making a scene.
