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But I can’t, because she’s right.

“I notice things,” I say instead.

“What?”

“I notice things about you.” I step around the desk, closing the distance between us. “I notice the way you bite your lower lip when you’re thinking. I notice how you always take the seat closest to the door, even when you’re not consciously aware of it. I notice that you sleep on your left side, that you prefer coffee over tea, that you hum under your breath when you’re working on something that challenges you.”

She backs up as I advance, her eyes wide, her breath coming faster.

“I notice that you look at me when you think I’m not watching. I notice that your pulse speeds up when I get close. I notice that you want me even when you’re telling yourself you shouldn’t.”

“Stop.” Her voice is barely a whisper.

“I notice everything about you, Davina. Every detail. Every breath you take.” I’m close enough now that I can see the flutter of her pulse in her throat. “It drives me mad.”

Her back hits the wall. She has nowhere to go, and I don’t step back. I plant my hands on either side of her head, caging her in, and lean down until my face is inches from hers.

“You call it obsession,” I say. “I call it knowing you. Better than anyone ever has. Better than anyone ever will.”

“That’s not—” She swallows hard. “That’s not normal.”

“No.” I tilt my head, studying her face, the flush on her cheeks, the way her pupils have dilated, the rapid rise and fall of her chest. “It’s not.”

“I should hate you.”

“Probably.”

“I should be running away from you, not—”

“Not what?”

She doesn’t answer. She just looks at me, her eyes dark and conflicted, her lips parted like she’s waiting for something she can’t bring herself to ask for.

I lean closer. My nose brushes against hers, and I feel her breath catch.

Then the phone on my desk rings.

The sound cuts through the moment like a blade. I pull back, my jaw clenching, and stare at the device like I want to destroy it.

It rings again, and again.

“I have to take this,” I start, but she’s already moving.

She slips under my arm and puts distance between us, her hand pressed against her chest like she’s trying to hold her heart in place. Her eyes are still dark, still wanting, but there’s something else there now too. Relief, maybe, or fear.

“I need to go,” she says.

“Davina—”

She’s already out the door, her footsteps echoing down the hallway, leaving me standing alone in my office with a phone pressed to my ear and a woman I can’t stop thinking about running away from me again.

I answer the call.

Andrei’s voice comes through, tense and urgent. “We have a problem. Callum’s men were spotted near the eastern perimeter. They’re probing our defenses.”

I close my eyes and take a breath. The moment with Davina is gone, shattered by reality, and I need to push it aside.

“How many?” I ask.