She hadn't seen him in almost a year.
Not since the last client relationship meeting, where her hands trembled under the table.
Not since she caught him watching her like he wanted to devour her. All the while pretending he hadn't.
Not since she intentionally put space between them, avoiding him at casual work events, keeping quiet when he joined a conversation.
Making herself blend into the background, small enough to disappear. Because if she didn't, she wasn't sure she'd survive the tension.
And now he was here.
Julian.
He stood alone at the far end of the hotel bar, dressed like he always was: sharp black suit, white shirt open just enough to be dangerous. Cuff links. No tie.
And then the only detail that made him feel real…A black and white pair of sneakers.
The glass of whisky in his hand hadn't moved in ten minutes.
But his eyes?
She knew he'd felt her.
Of course he had. That was always the problem with Julian—he noticed…
When no one else did.
When her husband didn't.
When her boss didn't.
When she tried her best to disappear into work and efficiency and a clean, convenient life.
She wasn't supposed to want this.
Wasn't supposed to feel this, this high, sharp pull under her ribs, like a leash snapping tight inside her chest.
He turned.
And when his eyes found hers, it wasn't a look.
It was a claim.
She felt it before she saw it.
Those gray eyes watching her as she walked across the bar, like heat slipping under her skin. Like being recognized in a crowd that stood still… and her body, naked.
He moved toward her slowly. Casually.
As if he hadn't been locked on her like a goddamn predator.
Lena swallowed and looked down at her wine glass, fingers tightening around the stem as he approached. She closed her eyes briefly and exhaled.
She told herself it was fine.
It was a work conference.
A coincidence.
A moment that meant nothing.
Except it did.
Her body betrayed her.
Jaw clenched.
Heat between her thighs.
Muscles tight with anticipation.
Hunger.
Julian's gaze didn't ask for permission.
It never had.
And even after twelve months and two states of distance, it still held her like it used to.
Still pinned her in place.
Still made her obedient without a word.
Still made her ache to kneel at his feet. Begging.
She remembered what he said, the last time.
Late. Quiet. Alone in a hotel bar.
His voice had been low. Unshakable.
"You want to be controlled. You just haven't let anyone earn it yet."
He hadn't touched her.
Hadn't moved closer.
He just left her with that sentence and a look that made her drip between her thighs. Her breath had quickened. Her body had begged for more.
She spent the next several weeks avoiding him. Her marriage, and her sanity, depended on it.
It probably still did.
Lena looked up again.
Julian was still watching her as he made his way across the room.
Unblinking.
She looked down into her wine glass, then to the floor, then toward the hallway behind her like someone had just called her name.
She didn't know why. Only that her heart was already pounding out the truth she had buried for too long.
He knows what I am.