The Thin Line Between Hate and Want
561 Words
Mira hated how aware she was of him.
Zane sat across from her in his glass-walled office, sleeves rolled up, the top button of his shirt undone like he wasn’t the human embodiment of temptation. His watch gleamed under the soft office lighting, and every time his fingers tapped against the polished surface of the conference table, she felt it like a pulse against her skin.
They had been locked in here for the last two hours, finalizing the merger presentation. Two hours of his voice, smooth and commanding. Two hours of his gaze, flicking toward her like he knew exactly how much space he occupied in her mind.
It was unbearable.
She needed air. Mira shoved her chair back and stood.
“I need coffee.”
Zane barely glanced up from the papers in front of him.
“You just had coffee."
She clenched her jaw. Of course he was keeping track. "And now I want more,” she said, heading for the door.
She had barely taken a step before his voice stopped her.
“Sit down, Mira.”
A command. Not a request.
Her fingers curled into fists. “Excuse me?”
Zane finally looked at her, slow and deliberate, like he was enjoying drawing her in, trapping her.
His voice was low. “We have a deadline.”
“I’ll be gone for five minutes.”
He leaned back in his chair, studying her like she was something he was considering devouring.
Then—he stood.
Her breath caught.
Zane walked around the table, each step measured, his presence suffocating. When he finally stopped in front of her, he was too close.
Close enough that she could smell him—cologne, expensive leather, and something darker.
He didn’t touch her.
He didn’t have to.
The air between them crackled.
Mira forced herself to hold his gaze. “Move.”
His lips curled slightly. “Why?”
Her pulse hammered. “Because I said so.”
His blue eyes darkened. “Funny. I don’t remember you ever telling me what to do.”
Heat flashed through her at the implication.
He was toying with her. Dragging her back to a past she had buried.
She hated him.
She wanted him.
And that was the problem.
Mira swallowed hard. “We agreed to keep things professional.”
He tilted his head. “Did we?”
Her breath hitched.
God, he was insufferable. And infuriatingly good at this game.
She squared her shoulders. “Yes.”
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then—he shifted closer, his breath warm against her cheek.
Mira’s fingers trembled at her sides. She should step back.
But she didn’t.
Zane’s voice dropped. “You sure about that, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart.
The word slammed into her like a wrecking ball.
Because once, long ago, it had been different. It had been whispered against her skin, breathed into her mouth between kisses, murmured like a promise he never planned to break.
Now?
Now, it was a weapon.
And she refused to let him win.
Mira lifted her chin, forcing a slow, cold smile.
“Completely.”
She pushed past him, ignoring the way her body reacted to the briefest brush of contact.
And when she walked out of his office, she didn’t look back.
Because if she did—she wouldn’t leave at all.
- Writer
