"Zara," he says, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine as he takes purposeful strides toward me. "We need to talk."
I keep my face neutral, though it’s a struggle, acutely aware of Alex's curious gaze. "Mr. Zolotov," I reply, my tone clipped. "I wasn't expecting you. Do you have an appointment?"
Abram's lips curve into that infuriatingly sexy smirk. "I don't need one. You know why I'm here."
The tension crackles between us as he walks inches close to me, confidence oozing from every pore. I fight the urge to step back, to run. Iwon'tgive him the satisfaction.
"Actually, I don't," I say, lifting my chin defiantly. "This is my place of work, and you can't just barge in here unannounced."
His eyes narrow, the playfulness replaced by something darker, more intense. "You left without saying goodbye this morning. That was rude."
I stiffen at the accusation, memories of last night rushing back. But I won’t let them control me. "I thought we were clear. Last night was a mistake," I say evenly, keeping my voice low so Alex can’t overhear as I begin to walk away, Abram at my heels as I expected him to be. "It won’t happen again. Now, please leave before I call security. And you can’t go talking to me like this, not in front of my colleagues."
Abram walks closer now, so close our hands could almost touch. Even as the words leave my mouth, I can feel my resolve weakening beside the heat of his skin, beneath that look in his eyes. God help me, I want him. And from the look in his eyes, he knows it.
Abram's hand closes around my wrist, his touch electric. Before I can protest, he's pulling me toward the storage room, away from prying eyes. My heart pounds as he shuts the door behind us, trapping me in the small space with his imposing presence.
"What are you doing?" I whisper, my voice trembling despite my efforts to stay calm.
He leans in, his breath hot against my ear. "You said you didn’t want people to hear, Zara. And this seems a better place to tell you I’m not giving you an out just yet."
I shudder, torn between desire and indignation. "I'm not yours, Abram. Last night doesn't change anything."
His chuckle is low, dangerous. "Oh, but it does. You can't deny we sharesomething."
The way he sayssomething,with his fingers trailing up my arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake, ignites such impossible potential for the wildest of dreams. I try to step back, but there's nowhere to go. "This is inappropriate. My colleagues—"
"Let them wonder," he murmurs, his lips brushing my neck. "I want everyone to know you belong to me now."
I bristle at his arrogance, even as my body betrays me. "I don't belong to anyone."
Abram pulls back slightly, his intense gaze locked on mine. "Give us a chance. I can give you everything you've ever wanted."
His words are seductive, promising a world of pleasure. But beneath the charm, I sense a possessiveness that both thrills and terrifies me. I take a deep breath, steeling myself against the magnetic pull of his presence. My voice comes out stronger this time, fueled by a surge of indignation.
"What I want," I say, struggling to keep my voice steady, "is for you to leave. Now."
But even as I speak, I'm not sure if I truly want him to go. But words are all I have, to not fall weak, and I convince myself it’s the only way.
I have to be the firm one here, because he’s got no reservations. And so, I do the job for both of us.
"Listen carefully, Abram. What happened between us was a one-time thing. Nothing more."
His eyes narrow, a flicker of something dangerous passing through them. "You don't mean that."
"I do," I insist, lifting my chin defiantly and meeting his gaze head-on. He needs to take my word for it, for I don’t know how much longer I can keep up the nonchalant front. "My independence isn't up for negotiation. I won't let anyone—especially not you—dictate my choices."
Abram's jaw clenches, his hands coming to rest on either side of me, caging me in. "You're making a mistake, Zara. We could be incredible together."
I push against his chest, creating space between us. "The only mistake was letting you think you know what I want. This is my gallery, my life. You have no place here."
His lips curl into a smirk, undeterred by my words. "Is that so?" He leans in again, his voice a low rumble. "Then why are you trembling?"
I curse my body's betrayal, willing myself to stay strong. "Because I'm angry. You need to leave. Now."
Abram's hand cups my cheek, his touch both gentle and possessive. "I'm not giving up on us. You'll see—"
"There is no us," I interrupt, jerking away from his touch. "Get out, Abram. I won't ask again."