“Tell me to leave,” he breathed, the command rough with barely contained restraint. But his body betrayed him - one foot sliding forward, shoulder dropping slightly, every inch of him oriented toward her like a compass erected to the northern pole.

A crack of thunder rattled the windows, and Juniper watched his control splinter in real time. His hands flexed at his sides, the movement drawing her eye to the vascularity in his fingers, making her remember how they’d felt threading through her hair in the elevator. The memory sent heat boiling beneath her skin.

Their eyes met in the reflection of the holiday lights. The professional distance they’d maintained for so long felt paper-thin now, dissolving like snow in summer rain. Neither moved. Neither breathed. The air crackled between them like a circuit seeking completion.