Page 53 of His By Contract

Georgia nuzzled into the curve of his neck, breathing in his scent as her racing heart gradually steadied. His skin was warm against her cheek, and she felt herself melting into his embrace.

His thumb traced gentle circles on her hip, revealing the control that always simmered beneath Adrian’s surface even in moments of tenderness. His fingers pressed against her skin with practiced restraint, hinting at the raw power he typically kept in check.

They stayed connected, sharing warmth and breath. Georgia felt the subtle shift in his demeanor, the way his jaw unclenched, how the ever-present tension in his shoulders eased fractionally. These small tells, so rare from him, made her heart flutter. His slow, steady breaths cascaded over her like a warm tide, deepening their connection in ways she hadn’t expected.

Adrian shifted onto his side with characteristic grace, drawing her with him as he slipped out of her. Their legs tangled together as he pulled her against his broad chest, his hand maintaining its protective position on her lower back, fingers splayed possessively across her skin. Georgia melted against him, tucking her head into the curve of his shoulder. His scent wrapped around her—that mix of cedar and warmth that was uniquely his. The solid weight of him anchored her, his body a shelter she could sink into without reservation.

Adrian’s lips found her temple, the coarse texture of his late-day stubble catching against her skin as he pressed close. “Mine,” he murmured, that single word emerging with uncharacteristic rawness, his usual controlled tone giving way to something primal and possessive. Georgia let her eyes fall shut, surrendering to exhaustion as his steady breaths matched her own, their shared cocoon of warmth insulating them from everything beyond this moment.

CHAPTER 16

Georgia stood beside Adrian in his executive office, daylight streaming through the windows, reflecting off the sleek monitors and highlighting the sharp planes of his face. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly as he leaned forward, the familiar scent of his cologne mingling with leather and success. He shifted closer, his shoulder nearly brushing hers as he pulled up the merger document.

Adrian’s hand rested on the back of her chair, his warmth radiating against her spine like a physical weight. “This merger proposal was crafted specifically to be found,” he said, his voice low and controlled. The document detailed an acquisition of a company recently embroiled in financial scandal, complete with projected earnings and market analysis that looked flawless to her untrained eye.

His finger traced along the screen, and a hint of satisfaction played at his lips, the kind that came from knowing the trap was perfectly set. “Every projection, every footnote is designed to appear legitimate while containing subtle red flags that would damage us if leaked.”

Georgia studied the document, noting the urgent tone regarding an upcoming announcement. The restricted folder labeled ‘Pending Mergers’ sat open on the screen, a digital trap waiting to be sprung.

“Our mole has a pattern.” Adrian’s voice dropped lower, intimate. “He only moves when he thinks I’m occupied or away. Always copying from shared folders, never directly accessing my personal files.”

His hand brushed her lower back as he straightened, shoulders squaring with barely contained tension. “We’ve installed monitoring software to track every keystroke, every file transfer.”

Georgia felt the weight of his trust as his eyes met hers, searching her face with careful intensity. “The key is visibility,” he murmured, a flicker of something pleased passing over his face, barely there, but unmistakably confident. “They need to see us leave together, to believe the office is truly empty.” His fingers ghosted across hers on the desk, fingertips trailing across her skin with studied care. “The file will appear carelessly left open, a tempting opportunity they won’t be able to resist.”

The monitor’s glow illuminated the satisfied gleam in Adrian’s eyes as he studied her, pride evident in the slight curl of his lips and the relaxing of his shoulders. Georgia felt a thrill of being included in his scheme, of deserving his subtle validation. Their shoulders brushed as they stood together, reviewing the trap they’d laid, partners in this dangerous game.

Georgia watched Adrian check his watch, the subtle movement drawing her attention. His expression shifted minutely as he straightened his cuff. “Time for the brief. Remember, becomposed, natural.” His voice carried the familiar edge of authority that brooked no argument.

She fell into step beside him as they walked through the open office space. The clicks of her heels against the floors echoed through the quiet buzz of typing and hushed conversations. Staff glanced up, their gazes sharpening, tracking the pair’s progress with a mixture of respect and curiosity. Adrian’s path through the room shifted the air itself, drawing every eye like a magnet pulling metal shavings. The weight of his influence tugged at the edges of conversations, bending them toward silence. Georgia kept her chin high, shoulders relaxed, projecting the easy confidence she’d learned to wear like armor in Adrian’s world. Beside him, every step felt significant, like walking at the center of gravity.

In the hallway, Adrian pulled out his phone, scrolling with casual interest. The set of his shoulders remained loose, his stride unhurried. Georgia matched his pace, her hands clasped loosely at her waist, the picture of a devoted wife accompanying her husband to a routine meeting.

The conference room’s glass doors swung open under Adrian’s touch. Instead of taking his usual seat at the head of the table, he moved to the water pitcher. The clear liquid splashed against crystal, the sound sharp in the quiet room.

A soft ping cut through the silence. Adrian’s gaze flicked to his phone screen, his expression calm as he set the device face down on the polished table. But Georgia caught the predatory gleam that flickered across his features, there and gone in an instant, like light catching on a blade. Their target had taken the bait.

Adrian stepped away from the table and moved to his chair, his posture commanding attention. Adrian launched into the brief,his voice steady as he outlined quarterly projections. Georgia sat straight-backed beside him, her attention apparently focused on the presentation while her pulse thrummed with the knowledge of what was really unfolding.

When Adrian closed his portfolio, the meeting concluded with the same exactness with which it had begun. They walked back to his office, their footsteps synchronized against marble. Once inside, Adrian moved directly to his computer, fingers flying across keys as he pulled up system logs.

He studied the timestamps and digital signature on the monitor. “It’s done,” he said, his voice low and firm. “Now we wait.”

Georgia nodded, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease. The first move in their game had been made, and there was no going back.

Georgia stepped into the glittering ballroom, the crystal chandeliers casting warm light across polished marble floors. Laughter and conversation swelled around her, punctuated by the soft strains of violins. Camera flashes sparked like lightning through the crowd as photographers tracked the movements of New York’s elite.

She sensed Adrian an instant before his fingers grazed her bare lower back, the fleeting contact sparking fire through her veins. Her cobalt chiffon dress rippled with every step, the airy fabric dancing around her legs as she moved forward, chin lifted. Eyes turned her way, some curious, others calculating. A society columnist scribbled in her notebook, while a photographer adjusted his lens.

“Mrs. Adler,” someone called out, their voice honey-sweet with false warmth.

Georgia let her lips curve into a practiced smile, one that revealed nothing. The crowd parted slightly as Adrian stepped back, ceding the spotlight. The gesture wasn’t lost on the watching journalists. Adrian Adler, known for commanding every room, was choosing to showcase his wife instead.

Across the ballroom, Richard Vaughn held court among a circle of financial powerbrokers, his silver hair catching the light. Georgia allowed her gaze to drift his way, lingering just long enough to create a moment of visible tension. Her expression was carefully composed, calm, but with a flicker of something unresolved, designed to catch the attention of any curious journalist watching. A camera clicked rapidly.

The room hummed with unspoken currents of power and speculation, every gesture loaded with meaning. Georgia stood perfectly still, letting the photographers capture her image: poised, elegant, and utterly in control.

Georgia drifted toward a cluster of investors near the champagne fountain, her footsteps light and graceful. The group parted to welcome her, their curiosity evident in the way they studied her approach.

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