Damien’s POV
My hand remained over Ofelia’s on the conference table for several seconds longer than necessary.
The forgotten document lay beneath our fingers, but neither of us reached for it. Her skin was warm against mine, and the slight catch in her breathing told me she felt the same tension tightening the space between us. I could have moved first. I should have moved first. Instead, my thumb shifted lightly across the back of her hand, almost without permission from my own mind.
Ofelia’s eyes lifted to mine.
The expression in them was not fear or anger. It was something softer, something curious and uncertain that pulled me closer even while every sensible part of me warned me to step away.
A phone rang somewhere outside the conference room.
The sound broke the moment.
Ofelia
