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Her phone chimed from the living room, and she left her coffee behind and slipped off the stool, padding across the room to retrieve it from her purse.

"Trains are running again," she said, reading the screen. "I need to get home. My cat hasn't been fed since yesterday morning."

Right. The cat.

Another reminder that she had an entire life I knew nothing about, routines and responsibilities that existed completely separate from me.

The thought bothered me a little, but what did I expect?

Nothing that was worth having would ever come easily, and maybe these speed bumps meant I needed to slow down and get my head on my shoulders.

"Of course," I said, though every instinct screamed at me to find excuses to keep her here longer.

She gathered her scattered clothing and disappeared into the guest bathroom to change. I found a cup of coffee and tried to organize my thoughts.

One night didn't mean anything. We were both adults, both capable of separating physical attraction from professional obligations. People had affairs all the time without it affecting their work.

So why did the prospect of watching her walk out that door feel like losing something irreplaceable?

She emerged fully dressed, looking as professional as she had for our work party. Her hair had been smoothed, shoulders straight, she looked every inch the competent assistant I'd relied on for years.

But I could see the change in her eyes, a new awareness that hadn't been there before when she looked at me.

"Thank you," she said formally. "For letting me stay, for the coffee."

"My pleasure. All of it…" God, my fingers itched to touch her. Especially when her eyes swept over my mostly naked form, lingering on the bulge where my dick was still partially swollen.

The double meaning of my comment wasn't lost on either of us. She ducked her head, color rising in her cheeks.

I walked her to the door but I kept my hands to myself. This was the moment that would determine whether last night remained an isolated incident or became the beginning of something more, because I wasn't about to let her leave without making her remember last night.

I had a good deal of self-control at times, but right now, it was buried under a mountain of unspent lust.

She reached for the handle, but I caught her wrist, spinning her back against the door. Her surprised gasp was cut short when I claimed her mouth, kissing her with all the hunger still coursing through me.

She melted against me immediately, her professional composure cracking as she kissed me back with desperate fervor. When I finally pulled away, we were both breathing hard.

"I meant what I said earlier," I murmured against her ear. "I want you. As often as you'll let me have you, however you're willing to take me… Think about it."

Her pupils were blown wide, lips swollen from my kiss. "Lucian?—"

"Just think about it," I said, backing away.

She fumbled with the door handle, clearly rattled. When she finally managed to get it open, she paused on the threshold.

"This is insane," she whispered.

"The best things usually are."

She shook her head but didn't argue, slipping out into the hallway. I watched through the peephole as she waited for the elevator, noting how she touched her lips with trembling fingers.

When the elevator doors closed behind her, I stood there for a long moment, my mind already working.

How would I convince her that we could make this work? How could I have her without blowing either of our careers up?

She'd said she wasn't a quitter last night when she was losing at cards. Time to find out if that applied to more than games.

Because I had every intention of persuading her that what we'd started was worth the risk.