He was already pulling back. Rebuilding his walls, brick by brick.
“Don’t,” she said softly.
His brow furrowed. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t retreat from me. Not now. Not after that.”
Zach’s jaw clenched. He stepped back, but she grabbed his wrist.
“That shouldn’t have happened.” His voice was rough. Wrecked.
Chapter 23
Control First
Zach pulled awaythe moment his breathing steadied. Not because he wanted to examine what had just happened, but because distance was the first correction.
The room smelled of sex and sweat and Emma’s softer scent beneath it. Vanilla. Wood. Her hair was a dark mess around her shoulders, her skin flushed, pulse visible at her throat.
Beautiful.
He looked away. Control first. Always. That was the deal he’d made with himself years ago.
He peeled the condom off, tying it off with quick movements. “That shouldn’t have happened. You don’t understand what you’re involved with.”
The words came out flat. Measured. Exactly as he intended.
She stilled.
Good,the tactical part of his brain said.Createdistance. Reestablish control. End this before it becomes something worse.
Worse was easy to define.
Worse meant attachment.
Worse meant Marcus seeing Emma as a target.
“It meant nothing.”
The lie tasted like ash. He didn’t let himself react to that either.
He’d been aware of Emma Vann from the first morning she’d walked into their boardroom back on Mimosa Cay—unhurried, self-possessed, those brown eyes cataloguing him with a frankness that made his threat assessment instincts malfunction. She’d been a variable he couldn't classify. He still couldn't.
Which was exactly the problem.
Variables you couldn’t classify were liabilities. But Emma wasn’t a liability. She was?—
Stop.
He tossed the condom in the bin and reached for his pants. Waistband. Belt. Familiar sequence. Physical routine. Something concrete.
Emma stiffened. He didn’t look at her, but he felt it—the way his words hit her. The way she didn’t buckle under it.
When she looked at him, there were no tears. No trembling lip. Just the same steady, unflinching gaze that had been unraveling him since day one.
“Good.” She straightened from the wall, voice calm. “It didn’t mean anything to me either, other than a useful stress release. Thanks for that.”
Her response cut like a blade between his ribs. Clean. Deep.
