The drive back from Le Cinq was a study in restraint. Eleanor sat straight in the Mercedes, her thighs still pressed tightly together, the damp lace of her panties a constant, humiliating reminder of how close she had come to losing control.
Calder was silent beside her, his posture impeccable, as if the electric undercurrent between them was nothing more than Paris traffic fumes.
But she caught the way his eyes flicked to her once, dark and knowing, before he turned to stare out the window. He knew. God, he knew.
By the time they pulled into the Vosstech headquarters garage the meeting felt like a distant fever dream.
Duval had been placated, handshakes exchanged, and the recovery plan for the Meridian fallout greenlit with cautious optimism.
It was a win, small but vital, patching
