"Okay, sir. Whatever you need, I am a phone call away."
Winn nodded and began to head out of the office. His hand brushed the door handle when suddenly—he stopped. As if yanked back by some invisible tether. His spine went rigid. His mind screamed keep walking. Slowly, he turned, eyes narrowing on her. Ivy, standing there with her notepad clutched to her chest, lips parted, eyes wide.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he closed the distance in three strides. His hand found her wrist, tugging her gently yet firmly until her body collided with his. Her breath caught. He bent his head and pressed his mouth to hers. His lips molded over hers. He didn't know why he did it—God, he never knew why. Maybe it was reckless chemistry. Maybe he thought if he tasted her, he'd remember what he had to return to. Maybe he needed that fire lodged in his blood to keep him ruthless enough to win.
