His Forbidden Touch

Chapter 8 : The Almost Kiss

The next day passed in a blur of meetings and paperwork, but Elena found it impossible to concentrate. Every time she picked up a pen or typed a report, her mind replayed last night the way Adrian had leaned so close, the heat of his body, the brush of his hand against her arm.

She hated herself for it. She had Daniel. Gentle, patient Daniel, who kissed her forehead every morning and texted to ask if she’d eaten lunch. But Daniel’s steady warmth felt so far away compared to the storm Adrian stirred inside her.

By the time the office emptied that evening, Elena was still at her desk, buried in files Adrian needed by morning. She told herself she was staying late because of work, not because part of her was hoping he would appear again.

The sound of a door opening made her heart leap.

She didn’t have to look up to know it was him.

“Still here,” Adrian’s voice rumbled. He stepped into the open space, his jacket slung over his arm, his shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms. His hair was slightly disheveled, as though he had run his hands through it in frustration—or maybe exhaustion. Either way, the sight made her chest tighten.

“I-I wanted to finish the reports for tomorrow,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t betray how fast her heart was racing.

He studied her silently for a moment, his gaze intense. Then he crossed the room, each step unhurried, predatory.

Elena swallowed, her pulse hammering as he stopped at her desk.

“You work too hard,” Adrian murmured, his tone softer than usual. “You should rest.”

“I’m fine,” she whispered, though she wasn’t. Not with him standing so close, not with his scent—clean, sharp, masculine—wrapping around her senses.

Adrian leaned down, bracing one hand on her desk, the other resting lightly on the back of her chair. He caged her in without touching her, his presence overwhelming.

Her breath caught.

“You’re dedicated,” he said slowly, his eyes locked on hers. “That’s rare.”

Elena’s throat tightened. “I just want to do my job well.”

Something flickered in his gaze—approval, desire, something darker. “You’re different, Elena.”

The way he said her name sent shivers down her spine.

She tried to look away, but his eyes held her captive. His face was so close now, close enough that she could see the faint stubble on his jaw, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath against her lips.

Her heart thudded painfully as realization struck. He was going to kiss her.

And worse she wanted him to.

Her body leaned forward before her mind could stop it. Her lips parted, her pulse wild. Every nerve in her screamed for him, for the forbidden taste of his mouth.

Adrian’s gaze dropped to her lips. His hand moved, fingers grazing her arm, feather-light but enough to set her skin aflame.

“Elena…” he murmured, low and rough, as if her name itself was a sin.

The distance between them vanished, inch by inch. His lips hovered a breath away from hers, and she swore she could already feel the heat of them.

But at the last second, panic surged through her.

Daniel’s face flashed in her mind. His smile, his steady love, his trust.

Elena gasped softly and pulled back, pushing away from her chair so quickly it nearly toppled.

“I—I should go,” she stammered, her voice trembling.

Adrian’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening, but he didn’t stop her. He straightened slowly, his expression unreadable, though the intensity in his gaze lingered.

“Elena,” he said quietly, as if warning her or himself.

But she grabbed her bag, her hands shaking, and hurried toward the door without looking back.

Her footsteps echoed in the empty office, her heart pounding louder than the sound.

When the elevator doors closed in front of her, she pressed a hand against her chest, trying to steady her breath.

She had almost kissed him. Almost given in.

And the terrifying truth?

She wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to resist the next time.