Elena's POV
"What happened to your arm?"
I hadn't even sat down yet. Damian was across the office in two strides before I'd finished setting my bag on the desk, close enough that I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes, close enough that the cedar-and-rain scent I'd started associating with him wrapped around me before I could think to step back.
"Nothing," I said, tugging my sleeve down over the marks on instinct, though the movement only seemed to confirm whatever he was already looking for. "Scratched myself on a moving box last night."
"Let me see."
"It's fine, really…"
"Elena." My name, low and rough, carried none of the boardroom polish he usually wrapped it in. His hand hovered near my wrist, close enough that I felt the heat of it without contact, close enough that some o
