CHAPTER 4 – THREADS OF TEMPTATION

Sunlight came in through the tall windows of the atelier, smiling at us all, and made materials like satin and silk glow. The place smelled of warm fabrics and power. Everybody moved and worked fast, getting ready for the upcoming Paris event. But even in the midst of the numerous activities tying me down, I could feel him.

Adrian.

He sat near the stairway, taking in the sun, basking in the ambience. Then he deliberately rested his eyes on me. No, it wasn't casual. It was the kind of look that makes you miss your step. Each time I turned, he was looking at me... as if studying me. When I bent down to pick up my pencil, he watched me... his eyes following my movement. When I pinned a fabric on a mannequin, my sixth sense informed me of his presence. It was totally inappropriate and nearly drove me crazy.

"Rain, Focus," I told myself.

Katherine had put me in charge of planning how the runway activities would play out. The fabrics were to move like music, and the models were to move in concord with that music. My brain was supposed to be occupied with ways to perfect that presentation and not disappoint Katherine, not the man sitting ten feet away whose green eyes were addictive.

When I finally gathered the courage to look up, Adrian was coming over to my table. Calculatedly. Confidently. Every step he took made the air between us feel hotter.

"Why do you work so hard?" he asked, standing close. His cologne intimidated me. Oud, purely masculine and rich.

"To achieve the perfection that Katherine is paying me for," I replied, trying to sound unfazed.

He bent his head slightly, smiling, "Are you sure, Rain?"

The way my name rolled off his tongue did something dangerous to me. I looked away, pretending to arrange pins and chalk, "Yes."

"That's a safe answer," he said.

Before I could say anything else, his hand touched mine as he reached and picked up a sketch. The contact was short, but it gave me goose bumps. His eyes held mine for a moment too long before he backed away. My breathing was shallow. He was married... to my boss... he was Katherine Knight's husband. And yet, every part of me felt like none of that mattered.

That afternoon, while supervising rehearsals on the Academy runway, Katherine sent me to pick up fabric samples from her office; the very same office no one but her entered. Her office was chilly, and the air was thick with expensive perfume. A partially closed drawer behind Katherine's desk caught my attention. Curiosity asked me to peek inside. Curiosity again asked me to pull it out.

With my sweaty and shaky palms, I skimmed through the folders I picked up. Some had international bank seals. In the transaction histories were unending lists of transfers from Knight Enterprises to several foreign accounts. They all had Katherine's signature. I heard footsteps coming, I quickly returned the documents and snapped the drawer shut, eyes wide, pulse racing. I barely had time to gather the fabrics I came for before Adrian appeared at the door.

"Lost?" he asked calmly, but his eyes were sharp.

I forced a smile. "No, on an errand."

He came closer, his face unreadable. "Katherine doesn't usually allow anyone in here."

"She sent me to..."

He held up his hand, smiling, "Relax, Rain. Just... be careful. Some rooms in this house contain more than just silk and stitches."

Our eyes met, and I could swear he heard my heart pounding in my chest. There was this knowledge in his stare... as if he already knew exactly what I had seen earlier. He held my wrist as I made to leave. Gently yet firmly. His palm was warm and comforting. I forgot to breathe.

"Rain, breathe," he whispered.

I resumed breathing, almost gasping.

"Don't lose yourself in this glamorous world of beauty and lies." He finished.

The air between us was boiling. Blood rushed through me as his fingers drew invisible lines on my face, sending fire through my veins. I should've pulled away. I didn't.

"Adrian..." I breathed hard, his name feeling too heavy on my tongue.

His eyes did most of the talking. For a moment, it felt like time stood still. His hand caressed my arm, his breath heavy on my neck and my cheek, and then, as if realizing himself, he took a step back, tension written all over him.

"I leave for a business trip in a week," he said abruptly. "From there, I'll join you guys in Paris for the presentation."

The change in his tone was annoying. He was clearly trying to regain control, to rebuild the distance we both destroyed just a few minutes ago.

I nodded, stiffly, "OK."

"At least, I will get to focus completely on my work," I told myself.

He chuckled. "Yes, Rain. Focus on your work."

I didn't even realize I had said that aloud. My face silently pleaded with his mind to forget what he just heard me say.

He turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing down the hallway until they faded away completely. As I watched him go, I hated the way my body was already missing the heat of his closeness.

As I returned to the studio, my mind was in shambles. Guilt, thrill, fear, I felt all of them at once. I had touched something forbidden today, not just Adrian's hand, but a dark chamber of Katherine Knight's empire. I wasn't sure which was more dangerous.

That night, as I lay in bed, my heart was very far from calm. I kept perceiving his perfume, seeing his face, and hearing his voice. I told myself I would regain control in his absence. Deep down, I knew that was a lie.

Adrian Knight was a temptation I wouldn't survive unhurt. And the secrets hidden behind Katherine's desk were only the beginning.

CHAPTER 5 – FIRE IN PARIS

Clarity. That was what I promised myself I would achieve when Adrian travels. A week of quiet, devoid of distractions from his deep voice or burning gaze, would do the magic.

How wrong I was.

Everywhere felt emptier. I no longer heard his voice and footsteps in the halls; I heard them inside my head. Sometimes, I caught a whiff of his cologne around me and unconsciously looked around for him. Now and then, I stared at doorways, expecting to see him standing there. Every drawing I made, every fabric I held, seemed to whisper his name.

Mere crush. That was what I called it. But every night, when I tried to sleep, I could feel his touch and breath on my body.

The trip to Paris was finally here. I was very relieved. The whole academy was shaking with excitement. Paris, the capital of fashion. Katherine Knight was launching her Serpentine grandeur collection, a superb combination of sculptural gowns and metallic fabrics. Seamstress, model, students, everyone was running on nerves and caffeine. For me, Paris meant one thing: Seeing Adrian. I tried to take my mind off him. I failed.

The first day in Paris was a frenzy of activities; last fittings, lighting tests, and last-minute stitching breakdowns. We tried to handle the disasters as smoothly as possible. The venue was like an opera house, gold and glass everywhere, the kind of place that wipes your slate clean, and you forget how ordinary you used to be. Models floated across the stage as if art came alive, while Katherine directed it all with detailed precision and expertise.

By evening, the whole team was burnt out. The first day had gone smoothly, but Katherine wasn't satisfied. She rarely was.

"Rain," she called as we packed up. "I dropped some sketches in my hotel suite. They are for tomorrow. Go pick them up for me."

"Yes, ma'am."

She threw me a key, eyes on her phone.

I arrived at the hotel ... or should I say a palace. The chandeliers looked costlier than my apartment back home. Katherine's suite was on the tenth floor.

The soft carpet greeted my tired feet. The lights were dim, the air filled with the faint scent of soap and steam.

And then I froze.

He was there.

Adrian.

Just coming out of the shower, a white towel around his waist... low... loose, his skin wet. Drops of water ran down his face and chest, looking like liquid diamonds.

My heart almost jumped into my mouth. "I... I thought this was Katherine's room...I... I'm sorry, Sir..." I stuttered, turning away and covering my eyes with my palm.

He laughed. "You are not in the wrong room, Rain," he said calmly. "I'm staying here too."

My mouth went dry. "Oh. I didn't know you were back." My eyes were still closed.

"Open your eyes."

I obeyed slowly, and there he was, right in my face, "You seem to walk into my rooms often, Rain."

"I didn't... I wanted... I came to..." I fumbled my words.

 "Go ahead," he gestured, his eyes smiling.

The large room suddenly felt much smaller. I dragged my legs to the desk. My fingers trembled as I flipped through files, pretending not to notice that he watched me.

For reasons best known to fate... my elbow touched his arm as he walked past me.

Electricity. Strong, magnetic force.

I froze, every nerve awake. His towel brushed my thigh, his warmth covering me.

He didn't move away. Instead, his voice came low, close enough for my skin to imbibe it. "Where are you rushing to?"

"I... I just... this..."

"We're finally alone," he whispered. "Far from Katherine's controlling eyes."

His words sank into me, deep and dangerous.

"This is wrong," I breathed, but there was zero conviction in my voice.

He came closer, so close that the heat from his body seemed to seep through the thin fabric of my blouse. "Tell me to stop," he said softly. 

I turned to face him, my heart hammering. "Adrian, please..."

His facial expression stopped me. His eyes were red, burning, not with arrogance, confidence, or cruelty, but with a kind of intense hunger that mirrored my own. I saw the man beneath the billionaire; one who wanted to feel something real... again.

"Did you miss me, Rain?" he asked.

The question straightened me out. I could have lied or at least run away. But instead, I helplessly whispered, "Yes."

His hand moved slowly, intentionally, tracing the side of my lips. "I know I shouldn't want you," he said. "But I see you even with my eyes closed."

My pulse danced wildly. My body moved faster than my mind, my hand rested on his chest, wet and warm beneath my palm. I ran my nails through the hairs on his chest, trying to avoid his eyes, "Adrian..."

He lifted my face, his eyes and breath on my lips. "Tell me to stop," he whispered again, his voice shaking.

I couldn't speak. The world had disappeared. All I could hear was the rhythm of our breathing, the rain tapping softly on the balcony glass, his scent, dizzying and forbidden.

When our lips finally met, it wasn't gentle. It was fire.

Months of restraint, weeks of denial; all of it burned in that kiss. My fingers tangled in his damp hair, his arm pulled me closer, and for a heartbeat, there was no Paris, no Katherine, no consequences... only the taste of him, the ache of desiring more.

When he finally broke the kiss, he rested his forehead against mine. His voice was rough. "You should go."

My knees felt weak. My lips were wet. I grabbed the documents, rushed out, afraid that I might be unable to leave if I stayed one more second. 

As I closed the door behind me, I rested on it, gasping for air. My heart was still racing.

Paris had barely begun, and I was already burning alive.