Page 72 of Meet Me In The Dark

Perfect.

He steps forward, invading the space where I’ve tried to hide in the shadows. I suppress a grimace and turn.

“Mr. Kingsley. Good to see you.”

“Seeing your design come to life is impressive. Your mind is truly extraordinary.”

Coming from anyone else, it would be flattering.

From Kingsley, it feels invasive.

“Architecture is storytelling,” I recite blandly, glancing away to create space between us. “Bringing ideas to life in a way that evokes something visceral.”

He hums at that, his attention sliding back to me rather than the elegant room we’re standing in.

“Visceral,” he repeats, savoring the word like it tastes sweet on his tongue. “You’ve considered my offer, I presume.”

“I appreciate it, Mr. Kingsley. Truly, I do. But I’m committed to where I am, and I have ongoing contracts to fulfill.”

His hand lands heavily on my lower back, and I shudder before politely stepping away.

I’ve heard the whispers and rumors. His successful firm hides an uglier truth, one marked by quiet payouts and silent departures. Boundaries ignored, lines blurred.

“You’re wasting your talents at that firm, but I’ll give you more time.” His eyes trail deliberately down my body. “You’ll come around.”

I’m mentally halfway through a desperate prayer, begging any deity who might listen to send an interruption—a waiter dropping a tray, an acquaintance calling my name, a small fire. Actually, scratch that. I worked too damn hard on this design to watch it burn.

Still, I’d take anything at this point.

Anything except what actually comes next.

“Sorry to interrupt, Ms. Morgan.”

The deep, familiar voice rumbles behind me, sending a jolt of awareness straight through my bones.

I brace myself before I turn, my heart pounding as my eyes lock onto his. Julian stands tall, broad shoulders perfectly framed by a tailored suit, eyes glinting with something dangerous. His presence instantly fills the space around us, pushing Kingsley’s smarmy aura aside with a force I didn’t know I needed.

“Julian,” Kingsley says, the sudden tightness around his mouth impossible to miss.

“Kingsley.” Julian doesn’t spare him a look because his eyes are on me.

To his credit, he doesn’t even take a peek down my body to appreciate the red satin dress I’m wearing.

Ah, he’s maturing.

“Ms. Morgan, I wanted to congratulate you personally. The design is incredible.”

His praise settles in my chest.

“Thank you.”

Kingsley looks between us, clearly annoyed at being the odd man out until finally he straightens. “We’ll talk soon, Celeste.”

It’s both a promise and a warning.

With Kingsley out of the way, Julian steps back into the shadows with me. He towers beside me, so close that my bare arm brushes against the expensive fabric of his suit jacket. For a long minute, neither of us speaks.

My thighs ache from our run this morning—a reminder of the strange intimacy forming between us. But here, beneath the soft glow of string lights, he feels different. More dangerous, somehow.