…I knocked once and twisted the door knob with confidence. This time, with no hesitations.

“Good evening, Mr. McCullen. I have your report.” I said, stretching out my arm to hand it over.

He looked up, gazing at me with those blue eyes piercing straight through me.

Get a grip, Robin. He’s unavailable.

“Right. Have a seat.”

He returned to his computer.

“Give me a minute, will you.”

I nodded, my thoughts spiralling with an image of him and Millicent together.

I frowned.

“Done,” he declared, closing his laptop. He held his nape, rolling his head back and forth.

“You can leave it on the desk.”

I did, and stood up almost immediately… too quickly to leave, striding across the room to the door.

He crossed the room, just in time and caught my arm before I could make it out.

“Leaving so soon?” he purred, his voice raspy and sensual.

“Yes. I have somewhere I need to be.”

“Wait. Don’t leave.”

He traced his bottom lip with his tongue, sending tiny shivers of molten heat spreading through my entire body. I turned my face away from him, flushed and throbbing at the groin.

GET A GRIP!

“Look at me.” He held my chin and tilted it up, forcing my eyes to meet his. “You’ve been on my mind all week. I don’t know what you’re doing to me, Robin—but I intend to find out.”

His hoarse voice was laced with a seduction I wasn’t prepared for, I wanted to moan in response.

Oh God!

This was sinful. I spent every day scorning my shameless serial cheater ex for his betrayal, yet here I was, my mind twisting against me and craving for another woman’s man in ways that made me quiver and ache all at once.

I pulled away from his touch. I couldn’t do this.

“Mr McCullen…”

“Jack. Just... call me Jack.”

He said, taking slow, cautious steps towards me.

“Jack,” I said evenly, backing up. “I don't know what you think is happening here, but I'd like to work in the company away from drama.”

He strode towards me, closing the gap, a mischievous smirk tugging at his lip. He thought this was amusing?

God! Give me strength…please.

“I’m not imagining this, Robin. I know you feel this too.”

No, he wasn’t. I was so much affected by him, but I wasn’t about to disclose it to him. I wasn’t going to let myself fall for him…

His fingers brushed my lips lightly, I shut my eyes in anticipation, gasping softly. I was dead “I’ve thought about touching you and kissing you all week.”

“Please stop.” I whispered, my heart throbbing in my chest at full tilt, his intense gaze doing nothing to soften my wrecking body. I needed to LEAVEEE!

“You want this.”

I stood helplessly staring into his blue eyes, unable to look away, as he hypnotised me. He leaned in, lifting me effortlessly from the ground by my waist until we were eye to eye, his gaze devouring me on the spot. I was a finished woman.

“You’re too beautiful, Robin.” he murmured into my ears, brushing his lips gently over my earlobe. “I don’t know how I controlled myself for this long.” A rush of shiver broke across my skin, every nerve ending prickling and standing at attending. He had so much effect on me. I was too weak – too incapacitated to resist, to think straight, to stop this man.

He brought his face closer, pressing his forehead gently against mine. Every reason to end this madness had escaped, leaving me a desperate wobbling whip. The world narrowing to the space between us. I instinctively lifted my hand to his face, tracing the outline of his jaw with my fingers. He was the most beautiful man I’d ever laid eyes on.

Everything shattered.

He pressed his lips against mine in a slow pace, my mind going delirious with all sort of emotions piercing through me at different angles. His lips were warm, soft and pillowy against mine, allowing my tongue to slip gently into his mouth – feeling the soft tickle of his breath beneath my nose, his fingers carding through my long thick hair as we breathed each other in. His intoxicating fresh water mint scent with a hint of oud infiltrating my senses. My breathing hitched, our bodies pressing together against the wall, heat building between us, our lips moving in a hungry rhythm. His tongue rolled over mine, tasting our shared breath, feeling the thud of our heartbeats as he gently set me down on my feet, our hands fumbling to peel each other’s clothes away.

God, I have to stop this, he has a girlfriend… Oh God.

I ran my fingers slowly through his curls—so soft, so silky. Nothing about this felt wrong; we both wanted this, we both needed this, and I was going crazy with want. Yet...this was nothing but a sinful desire.

I needed him, but he was taken...

God! This wasn’t right, I was defying my own rule—never to get involved with a man who was already committed. Yet every sensible thought that came to me was thrown out the window, I was hopelessly undone by the pull of him.

He cupped my cheek and kissed every inch of my face, consuming me piece by piece, leaving no part of me untouched, no space for reason to survive.

My mind screamed restraint, but my body was overcome with desire, trembling under the towering height of this man. Captivating me with a want so sinful, yet I couldn’t resist.

“No…Jack,” I gasped, jerking away from him. Geeing myself up, I gingerly pulled my clothes back on, feeling ashamed— my thoughts far from composed.

“You’re not leaving, Robin,” he mused, his hands inching to hold my waist. “Not now.”

“I can’t do this.”

I withdrew, my legs buckling uncontrollably beneath me, betraying every shred of control that remained. My purse and phone sat forgotten on his swivel chair.

Shit.

I fled—leaving my purse, my phone, and my dignity behind.

******

A month earlier…

Sleep abandoned me as my eyes fluttered open. I rubbed at them gently before easing myself upright on Lana’s bed, and sighed. I missed Mason. God, I missed him so much.

Tears rolled down my cheeks, and I instinctively brushed them away with the back of my index finger, as though wiping the tears might erase the lingering pain too.

“He never deserved me,” I squeaked, my voice a few notes higher than usual.

Lana stirred beside me.

“Sorry,” I murmured, offering her an apologetic smile when her eyes lifted to mine.

Lana and I shared a space, we’d always shared everything, ever since we met as freshmen at Oxford University. Every high, every low, every messy in-between. She’d given up a Mayfair luxury house, her mother’s graduation gift, for my modest Bexley apartment—nothing too fancy. A decision that still baffled and irritated me.

“This space is big enough,” She’d insisted back then.

I’d rolled my eyes, imagining the life we could have lived in one of London’s most expensive neighborhood if she’d accepted the damn mansion.

“Still sobbing over the philanderer?” Lana asked, narrowing her eyes at me on a scowl.

I shrugged and moved past her to the bathroom.

“Robin, it’s been five fucking months. Can you at least try and get over the cheating bastard?”

She waited for an answer, it never came, then added, “If you’re going to cry, I won’t stop you. I’ve done my best and heavens knows I’ve tried.”

With that, she turned over, leaving me alone beneath the harsh bathroom light. I stared up the ceiling as if it held answers it was deliberately withholding from me. I murmured for what felt like the hundredth time that he didn’t deserve me, I heaved a sigh.

Yet, I still missed him.

I felt stupid. Gullible. Naïve. How could I still think of him after everything he did? After the pain he caused me?

I sighed, washed my hands, and headed back to Lana’s bedroom, only to stop dead.

Shit, nature was calling.

I groaned softly. How had I forgotten to pee? Mason had completely hijacked my senses. I retraced my steps, tugged down my knickers, and let it all out; his betrayal and my pathetic self, flushing it all down.

Hopefully, that was it.

Hopefully, he was finally out of my system for good. It was time to live again.

When I returned to the bedroom, Lana was fully awake, sitting cross-legged on the bed.

“Surprisingly, it’s not late at all,” she said dryly. “It’s just two in the morning.”

“I hear the sarcasm,” I said, exhaustion lacing my voice. “It doesn’t suit you. And I already apologized for waking you. I should go to my room now.”

“Don’t go,” she murmured, rummaging through the mountain of papers and quirking her lips up in a pout. “Help me with these.”

“Can’t it wait till morning?”

“Nope. I can’t sleep anymore.”

I didn’t argue. Instead, I climbed onto the bed beside her, helping her sort and mark the chaotic mound of biology practical papers sprawled across the cotton sheets. It took far longer than either of us expected.

By 3:05 a.m., we both gave in to the tiredness. Lana collapsed on her bed. I retreated to my room.

Just before I slumbered, my phone jumped to life beside me, flashing Mason’s name across the screen.

My eyes bulged out on a gasp, my gaze fixed on the screen, his memories ricocheting as my thoughts tumbled, my breath hitched.

Was I going to allow him back into my life after gut wrenching experience?

If I answered the phone, I would be disappointing myself yet again.

I stroked away the tear beneath my eyes, deleted his number and tossed my phone to the side.

Mason was done ruining me!

I woke up to the shrill of my ringtone. Still half-asleep, I groped across the bed for my phone and answered on the second ring.

“Robin, I have great news for you! Dad secured you an interview at McCullen Heights.” Lana screamed with a piercing voice, snapping my eyes open with my heart stuttering as the words sank in.

“Hey,” Lana snapped. “Did you hear me?”

“Well… I…I just can’t believe it. How?” I said, my brows knitting in surprise as my jaw dropped slightly, wide eyed.

“Uh, duh,” she said flippantly. “My dad holds the keys to a lot of high places, darling. The interview is at eleven. Best of luck, friend.”

I tapped the end button and stared at my phone, stunned.

Was I dreaming?

An interview?

After countless unsuccessful interviews over the preceding weeks, I had begun to admit to failure. The outcome remained unchanged, and there weren’t any grounds to expect otherwise in the foreseeable future. I wasn’t one to give up easily, but after the relentless grind of the job hunt, I finally called in a favour from Lana and her dad, Mr. Betton.

I had wanted to navigate the search on my own, to earn my own way without leaning on Lana. But pride had its limits, and I had to admit, I needed help if only to expedite what felt like an endless process. However, I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. I hadn’t expected this so soon.

I called her back immediately and picked on the first ring.

“What’s up? Need directions?” she said teasingly.

“I know my way around. I just wanted to thank you for—”

“Robin,” she interrupted gently but firmly, “we’re practically sisters. I’m glad you came to me, this is nothing. Stop with the formalities. Ace the interview that’ll be thanks enough. Good?”

I nodded, even though I knew she couldn’t see me.

“Hello?” she called. “You there, Rob?”

“Yes. I’m here,” I said finally. “Thank you. I won’t disappoint you. I love you.”

“That’s more like it,” she said. “I’ve got a mountain of papers to grade. Catch you at home later?”

“You bet.”

I hit end, and dropped the phone onto the bed, my pulse still racing. McCullen Heights?

It was only eight in the morning, plenty of time if I didn’t waste it. I launched into my morning ritual with full military focus. A quick workout to shake off the nerves, scrambled eggs, a fruit bowl, and coffee, strong. Always strong. Especially on days when the stakes were high, like now.

After my shower, I slipped into a flowing, floral dress that fell just below my knees—soft and professional. I booted on my laptop as I ran through mock interview questions, pacing the room between answers.

I could not fuck this up.

Two hours and a full mug of coffee later, I was ready –an achievement in itself, considering timelines were never my strong suit. I smiled at my reflection, spun once in front of the mirror, then grabbed my purse and Lana’s car key. She had lent me her Audi A3.

Fingers crossed London traffic wouldn’t test my patience today, or sanity.



Getting to McCullen Heights was quite a gruelling journey, thank goodness for breakfast. I exhaled nervously as the receptionist led me through a flight of stairs and endless trips, in and out of elevators. She finally pointed to a door, and I take tentative steps towards it, a slight tremor ran through my hand as I reached for the door knob. The door expansively displaying a brass nameplate bearing the name, Jack McCullen. CEO.

I drew in a deep breath, then stepped inside.

And froze.

I stood dead in the doorway, utterly paralysed.

He was watching me – his gaze intense, his lips pursed in quiet assessment. Then he stood –a towering behemoth of a man, traipsing from behind his massive desk and moving towards me with long, unhurried strides, clearly registering my inability to move. God, he is so beautiful.

“I’m Jack.”

His low, raspy voice rooted me to the spot, burning my cheeks bright red. Jesus, I’m an obvious hussy.

My heart slammed against my rib cage, breath catching painfully in my throat. My thoughts reeled uncontrollably in all direction sexual, and my mouth doing a terrible job forming words, to say something—anything! Calm the fuck down. I just stood still, staring at him, while he stared back, his piercing blue eyes holding me in place further immobilizing me. My God.

I felt hot and languid…what was happening to me??

He's imposingly tall, burly figure and broad at the shoulders. I gulped at his figure.

He wore a tailored, lush suit with a sharp, pristine jacket over a crisp charcoal shirt, complemented by a finely knotted black tie hanging loosely down the front of his broad chest, completing an impeccable ensemble.

When I still hadn’t responded, he gently nudged my shoulder.

I gulped. God, what is up with me?

This man was… perfect.

His dirty blonde hair was immaculately styled and well-kept, his jaw square beneath a neatly groomed beard that did nothing to hide the handsome features beneath. His eyes were a deep, sapphire blue – intense, bright and far too consuming. He was lightly tanned and infuriatingly composed.

Oh God.

Owner of McCullen Heights?

“Miss Clay,” he murmured, his voice only deepening my paralysis.

I tensed all over. I could hear my heart thudding in my ears. I knew I had to speak—but I couldn’t. I was drunk, and completely captivated by him.

“I’m shutting the door now,” he said calmly, recognising my stupidly tensed state.

He leaned forward, lowering himself to level with my eyes, then whispered in my ear, “Are you okay?” His hot breath sending searing coals to radiate throughout my body, I gasped, clearing my throat loudly afterwards to snap myself out from the embarrassment. I’m so pathetic.

I jolted out of my dazed stupor, agonizingly aware of his intense gaze.

“Hi,” I croaked, my skin flushed. “I’m Robin Clay.”

I extended my hand. He took it gently, the contact sending a shiver straight down my spine. We both released our hands just as quickly as we clasped them.

“I know,” he said, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Come. Sit. Mr Betton sent over your portfolio for a position at our company.”

“Oh,” I murmured, my voice flickering with disappointment. “Is this a communications-only company, yes?”

“Among others,” he replied evenly. “You’ve been directed to our confectionery processing factory the largest in the world. That’s where your expertise lies, no?” he said, his tone clipped, with a quiet confidence.

“Yes, I majored in Food Science,” I said. “I’d be elated to join your company.”

A half-smile tugged at my lips. His sapphire eyes locking onto mine, his voice prickling at my senses as I stared at stunning face. I silently prayed to get through this without humiliating myself.

“Um… what more would you like to know?” I said, fidgeting with my fingers. I had to distract myself.

“I’ve got all I need.”

He did? Confusion flashed across my flushed face.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’ve got the job. How soon can you start?”

My breath hitched. “Um…Immediately?”

“Monday. Keep me posted by submitting a full report of your activities to me.”

“I can do that,” I said, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze.

“However,” he cooed, “I do have a concern, are you partnered with anyone?”

The question slammed me back into my seat, my thoughts screeching to a halt –wrinkling my nose instinctively.

“That’s a personal question, Mr…”

“McCullen,” he supplied, his lips curving into a faint smile. “I don’t believe I’m obliged to answer that,” I said flatly.

“It’s a question we ask all employees for security reasons.”

Security reasons? This must be a joke!

I nearly laughed. Instead, I bit back the sarcasm threatening to escape and forced a strained smile.

“No... I’m not.”

His lips pursed thoughtfully, releasing them just as quickly.

“Robin,” he said slowly, savouring the taste of my name on his tongue. It took everything in me not to react. I clenched my legs tightly together preventing a violent throb, my groin felt heavy and aching. I was completely rapt by him, which was why I really had to get out of here.

“We’re done for now. I’ll expect your report on Friday.”

Thank fucking God.

I nodded, my face turning crimson.

“Ms Clay.”

I stood, my chair creaking softly. He moved towards me with long strides, closing the distance.

“Please,” he said, holding the chair backwards for me to easily sidestep between the space. “Allow me.”

As I moved pass him, his hand gently brushed my arm and I clenched my jaw, fighting a groan.

“Thank you,” I murmured, meeting his gaze one more time.

“I aim to please,” he replied, his lips curving into a half-smile.

Oh God don’t look at me…please.

I turned my eye away from him, escaping on quaking legs.

I slumped into my car, releasing a shaky sign of relief.

I picked a tissue instinctively from the holder and dapped my face. Had I been sweating the entire time? I slouched forward tapping my head lightly against the steering wheel.

As I drove out from the rear of the building, the interview and Jack’s face continued to replay relentlessly in my mind.

How was I supposed to work with him?

One thought reverberated louder than the rest on my drive back home.

It would take everything in me to resist Jack McCullen!

*******

“You’re home early. I didn’t expect your return this soon,” Lana said, her head buried in the pile of papers spread across the coffee table.

“Well, he got everything he needed.”

Lana lifted her head sharply, her gaze narrowing at me. “How did it go?”

I hurried into the kitchen, pretending to be preoccupied with the blender. I didn’t want to discuss anything concerning Jack McCullen.

“Well?” she pressed.

“It went okay, Lana,” I said curtly, burning instantly by the whole shebang that had unfolded half an hour ago.

“I want the details,” she said, pushing back her chair, and whirling around to face me. “Was he a curmudgeon?” I snickered around a mouthful of cucumber smoothie. “I wouldn’t expect him to be anything less than fifty.”

“I didn’t ask his age though he looked mature,” I said tentatively, “but I’ll be sure to ask next time… and apparently he didn’t need an intensive interview Mr. Betton had already sent over everything.”

Lana studied me closely, gazing at my face “Then why do you look unsettled?”

She was annoyingly discerning.

“He was nothing like what I expected...”

“What were you expecting?” she said, on a shrill. “A gruff old man?” Her stare sharpened on me and I suddenly feel uncomfortable.

“He’s… insanely hot,” I admitted quietly. “And he knows it. Worse—I think he’s aware of the effect he has on me.”

I covered my face with my palms mortified, and feeling ridiculous.

Lana’s lips spread into a wide grin. “I bet you had just as much impact on him. You’re the most beautiful woman I know, Robin.”

She always did that—reminded me of myself when I was trying hard not to feel seen. Especially after Mason. Especially when I was slipping into that dark hole.

“You’re breathtakingly beautiful,” she added softly.

“I appreciate the compliments,” I said, lowering my hands from my face, “but I’m really not ready to jump back into the dating market just yet. I hope you understand.”

Her mouth curved into a smile. “Crystal. But you never know where—or when—you’ll meet the one.”

“What?” I said, rolling my eyes at her.

“Nothing.” She tilted her head. “Do you want to go downtown for drinks? It is fucking Friday.”

“Can we do wine and popcorn instead?” I suggested. I couldn’t go out, I was still swamped by a certain God. “Then out tomorrow? Deal?”

“Sounds perfect,” she said. “Gives me more time to finish this heap.” She gestured at the papers. “Help me out?”

“I’ll take a rain check,” I said smugly. “Last time was terrible.”

“Oh, come on,” she laughed. “It wasn’t that bad. You woke me up, remember? The least you deserved—for allowing the douchebag disrupt our sleep.”

I snarked at her. “You’ve always made it clear you hated Mason. That ship has sailed. Let’s forget about him, okay? I’m taking a warm bath.”

I walked down the narrow hallway, then turned, just when she was about to call after me.

“Help me out when you’re done?” she pleaded, batting her lashes with a pouty expression. That got me every time. That shameless cow.

“Okay, okay,” I relented, sighing. “But just for a few minutes.”

She nodded triumphantly.

“Hope you’re not spending the whole time thinking about Mr. Hot McCullen?” she teased.

I ignored her and shut the bathroom door behind me, still hearing her impish giggles.

He was way too old for me and probably taken…positively taken.

Yet, truthfully?

I planned to roam wild in thoughts about Mr. Hot McCullen.

As I lowered myself into the warm bath, I exhaled shakenly, completely aware of how unprepared I was for whatever was stirring inside me. Whatever hold Jack McCullen already had on my senses, I knew, without a doubt that I was helplessly consumed by him.

The weekend passed very quickly in a hazy blur. Lana had dragged me downtown to a bar for some much-needed relaxation after a stressful week at her department and the looming reality of my new job. Still, every spare moment, my mind faltered, circling continuously back to Jack. What was it about him that I couldn’t just resist?

His piercing blue eyes?

That impossibly handsome face?

The searing warmth of his touch? Or the way he made me quiver all over when we were in close proximity.

I was by and large slipping into a reverie about Jack in every fleeting moment. I was losing myself in want, and that wasn’t the plan. This job meant the world to me, the last thing I needed was to ruin it with an insatiable desire I had no right to feel. My first day at the confectionery was tranquil almost unreal. The grandeur of the factory was unlike anything I’d ever seen before, its interior nothing short of breath taking. I worked here now? At McCullen Confectionery? It felt incredible. I could never thank Lana or Mr Betton enough. Mr Betton was a financial magnate, an entrepreneur, and the CEO for Betton Conglomerate. His influence was boundless, his connections and networks amassed like trophies over decades of expertise. Turning him down for any favours whatsoever was unheard of and practically obscene – something that should never be done. When he called in a favour, you answered without questions or interrogations.

The day was mainly used for basic introductions and acquainting myself with the varying departments. McCullen Confectionery rose with a quiet confidence; dark glass, clean lines, and steel-grey panels framing wide windows that caught the light and gleamed. The smooth white curve of the glass-clad building softened the sharp edges, with a modern architectural theme. The imposing building didn’t demand attention. It commanded it.

The supervisor, Millicent, was a striking blonde in her mid-thirties with pouty lips and an air of authority. She oversaw the brief training, her sharp demeanour and precise explanations making her both intimidating and impressive. We toured the entire facility—a walk so long it felt like traversing a city. My awe was palpable. Millicent was the backbone of this place as rumoured, and it was quite obvious –her command of the production line was flawless, and for a moment, I aspired to be just like her.

Until lunch.

“Is this seat taken?” A voice stabbed at my back

I shook my head. “No, you can sit.”

“How are you liking it so far?” The voice said, circling beside me.

“Enormous,” I said honestly. “And a dream come true.”

“Right?” He grinned. “William. William Knight.”

“Robin.”

“No surname?” He winked at me as he sat, his face flashing with a loopy grin.

“Clay.”

“Beautiful name.” He leaned closer towards me. “You know, I heard the biggest news today.”

Despite myself, a sweet smile washed across my face, trying my best to look to sound intrigued. “What’s that?”

“Millicent and the big boss are an item.”

“The big boss?” As far as I was concerned, there were a ton of big bosses in this behemoth. Could he be more specific?

My eyebrows knitted together, a crease forming between them, urging him to let the big news out already.

“Mr McCullen.”

Something splintered inside my chest.

“Oh.”

That was all I could manage.

What had I expected? A man like Jack; successful, over confident and attractive… single?

The rest of the week passed uneventfully, at least for me. My heart quietly fracturing in my chest. I resolved to forget everything Jack McCullen and focus on my career…that would never not end in tears.

The weekly reports would end eventually. They had to. I would make sure of it.

To survive, I’d have to keep our encounters brief, minimal contact and professional distance.

Friday came sooner than I had anticipated. Lana was already at a bar waiting for me, by the content of the recent text that declared on my phone and I couldn’t keep her waiting. She’d made it her mission to sleuth around for new bars and explore only the best together every Friday, I liked the distraction. Though I was positively certain this ruse of an idea wouldn’t last for long. Lana was far too busy with her position as the laboratory assistant at the biology department at Oxford to be playing detective.

The journey from McCullen Confectionery Factory to McCullen Heights was exhausting on foot. I paused for a moment, letting my eyes roam over the building’s exterior. It was just as imposing as the factory its self. They both exuded the same character – majestic, commanding and alluring and I couldn’t suppress the flicker of admiration spreading across my face.

I glanced past the mountain of stairs and stepped into the elevator instead. Gosh, those stairs were as for cardio as a treadmill. My heart pounded rapidly against my chest in anticipation as I strode to his office. Get in, deliver and leave, get in, deliver and leave, get in, deliver and leave. I repeated the mantra like a catholic prayer, and boy did I need it. If I was to stay sane with him and not combust, I required every muscle and prayer. God help me.

As I approached Mr. McCullen’s door, I knocked once and twisted the door knob with confidence. This time, with no hesitations.

“Good evening, Mr. McCullen. I have your report.” I said, holding the report out to him.

He looked up, gazing at me with those blue eyes piercing straight through me.

Get a grip, Robin. He’s unavailable.

“Oh. Right. Have a seat.”

He returned to his computer.

“Give me a minute, will you.”

I nodded, my thoughts spiralling with an image of him and Millicent together.

I frowned.

“Done,” he declared, closing his laptop and rubbing the nape of his neck.

“You can leave it on the desk.”

I did, and stood up almost immediately… too quickly to leave, striding across the room to the door.

He crossed the room, just in time and caught my arm before I could make it out.

“Leaving so soon?” he purred, his voice raspy and sensual.

“Yes. I have somewhere I need to be.”

“Wait. Don’t leave.”

He traced his bottom lip with his tongue, sending tiny shivers of molten heat spread through my entire body. I turned my face away from him, flushed and throbbing at the right places. GET A GRIP!

“Look at me.” He held my chin and tilted it up, forcing my eyes to meet his. “You’ve been on my mind all week. I don’t know what you’re doing to me, Robin—but I intend to find out.”

His hoarse voice was laced with a seduction I wasn’t prepared for and I wanted to moan in response.

Oh God!

This was sinful. I spent every day scorning Mason for his betrayal, yet here I was, my mind twisting against me and craving for another woman’s man in ways that made me shudder and ache all at once.

I pulled away from his touch. I couldn’t do this.

“Mr McCullen—”

“Jack. Just... call me Jack.”

He said, taking slow, cautious steps towards me.

“Jack,” I said evenly, backing away. “I don't know what you think is happening here, but I'd like to work away from drama.”

He strode forward, closing the gap, a mischievous smirk tugging at his lip. He thought this was funny?

God.

“I’m not imagining this, Robin. I know you feel this too.” His fingers brushed my lips slowly and I shut my eyes in anticipation. I was dead “I’ve thought about touching you and kissing you all week.”

“Please stop.” I whispered, my heart throbbing in my chest, his intense gaze doing nothing to soften my wrecking body. I needed to LEAVEEE!

“You want this.”

I stood helplessly staring into his blue eyes, unable to look away as he hypnotised me. He leaned in, lifting me effortlessly from the ground until we were eye to eye –his gaze devouring me. I was a finished woman.

“You’re too beautiful, Robin” he murmured into my ears, brushing his lips gently over my earlobe. “I don’t know how I controlled myself for this long.” A rush of shiver broke across my skin, every nerve ending prickling and standing at attending. He had so much effect on me, I felt weak.

He brought his face closer, pressing his forehead against mine –then at once every reason to end this madness escaped. The world narrowed to the space between us, leaving me motionless and drunk. I instinctively lifted my hand to his face, tracing the lines of his jaw with my fingers.

Everything shattered.

He pressed his lips against mine in a slow pace, my mind going delirious with all sort of emotions piercing through me at different angles. His lips were warm, soft and pillowy against mine, allowing my tongue to slip gently into his mouth – feeling the soft tickle of his breath beneath my nose, his fingers carding through my long thick hair as we breathed each other in. His intoxicating fresh water and mint scent with a hint of oud infiltrated my senses. My breathing hitched, our bodies pressing together against the wall, heat building between us as our lips moved in a slow, hungry rhythm. His tongue rolled over mine, tasting our shared breath and feeling the thud of our heartbeats as he gently set me down on my feet, our hands fumbling to peel each other’s clothes away.

God, I have to stop this, he has a girlfriend… Oh God.

I ran my fingers slowly through his curls—so soft, so silky. Nothing about this felt wrong; we both wanted this, we both needed this, and I was going crazy with want. Yet...

I needed him.

Stop. He’s taken...

God. This wasn’t right. I was defying my own rule—never to get involved with a man who was already committed. Yet every sensible thought was thrown out the window, and I was hopelessly undone by the pull of him.

He cupped my cheek and kissed every inch of my face, consuming me piece by piece, leaving no part of me untouched, no space for reason to survive.

My mind screamed restraint, but my body was overcome with desire, trembling under the towering weight of this man. Intoxicating me with a want I couldn’t name, yet couldn’t resist.

“No—Jack,” I gasped, jerking away from him. Geeing myself up, I gingerly pulled my clothes back on, feeling ashamed— my thoughts far less composed.

“You’re not leaving, Robin,” he said, his hands inching to hold my waist. “Not now.”

“I can’t do this.”

I withdrew, my legs buckling uncontrollably beneath me, betraying every shred of control that remained. My purse and phone sat forgotten on his swivel chair.

Shit.

I fled—leaving my purse, my phone, and my dignity behind.

I couldn’t go back. I won’t be able to stop myself.

I was such a shameless tart.

I slammed into Lana’s car, yanked the door shut, and fired up the ignition. My hands shook violently on the stirring wheel, my chest feeling like it was being ripped apart, and the world tilted as I sped away. I looked and felt dreadful. My lips were swollen and checks flushed, how did I get here?

The memory of him clawed at my skin, searing through me, was impossible to escape. Every brush of his hands, every press of his lips, every controlled motion of him was all ingrained into my memory, pulsing through my veins, making restraint feel like a bad joke. I tried to focus on the road, but my body remembered what my mind refused to accept.

Holy shit… what just happened?

*******

I pulled into the bar’s parking lot and finally freed myself from the insufferable seatbelt that hugged tightly around my body. Stepping out beneath the harsh glow of the oversized exterior light, my silhouette stretched long across the concrete slab, forcing me to pause. I needed a minute—to breathe, to gather my thoughts, to process what the hell had just happened.

I must have lost my mind.

I exhaled sharply and headed inside.

Lana wouldn’t be hard to find and she wasn’t. I spotted her slouched against the bar counter, her fingers curled around what looked like either a martini or a Bloody Mary.

“Hey,” she said, leaning in to kiss my cheeks. “It took you long enough. I’ve been blowing up your phone. I got worried.”

“Is that so?” I replied, eyeing her drink pointedly.

“I needed company,” she said unapologetically. “You know how I get when I worry. What kept you so long? I thought you were just handing in a report and meeting me here.”

“We kissed,” I blurted, moving past her to place an order at the bar.

“I’m sorry…what?” Lana stuttered in disbelief, judgement flashing across her face, as she swirled to face me.

“You kissed him, Robin?” she asked, incredulous. “I thought you said he was seeing someone.”

“Well…he kissed me first. And I… I couldn’t resist.” My voice faltered. “I feel disgusted with myself.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Lana said gently, her tone softening. “I know you’re still hurt and confused after what that dimwit did. But don’t make another mistake by falling for someone who’s already taken.”

She tucked a wisp of hair behind my ear, grounding me the way she always did.

Lana had been my constant long before Mason…long before Jack McCullen complicated my life, long before loss taught me how quickly everything could fracture and change in seconds.

“I’m over Mason,” I insisted. “I swear. I just… I don’t know what happened. One minute I was handing in the report he’d requested, the next minute I was up against the wall. I couldn’t focus. I panicked and dashed out as soon as I could.”

My eyes burned as the tears started to pinched on them, threatening to pour over in defiance of my control.

“Nope,” she said firmly. “We’re not doing that.”

“What?”

“Wallow in self-pity and gloom.”

She brushed away a tear slipping down my cheek.

“Am I that gullible, Lana?” I asked, my voice breaking as the emotional floodgate burst open.

“No, baby,” she said. “You just attract cheats and unavailable men.”

She twisted her face into grimace, making me laugh.

“You’re intelligent, confident, strong and devastatingly alluring Robin. Gullible is not one of your flaws.”

I nodded, wiping my face with my index finger.

“Come on,” she said, grabbing my hand. “Let’s get drunk.”

She pulled me toward our table, and I followed, smiling. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

******

An hour and a half later on endless gulps of margaritas and Bloody Marys, than Lana’s family chauffeur, Mike, gently hauled us to our feet. Lana never failed to warn him whenever our adventures involved alcohol, because on nights like this, a steady hand was paramount. He was the one who collected the mess and ensured we made it home with our dignities only slightly bruised. It had always been this way—since college. However, I was always the responsible one. The voice of reason, the one who never tipped over the line …but tonight, that voice had gone silent, drowned beneath several quaffs of Bloody Marys. I let myself sink into the drunken stupor because I needed to. Because Jack was still lodged far too deeply under my skin, and I was desperate to shake him loose.

This wasn’t recklessness. It was primal.

And yet, even in my haze, I knew it for what it was...

Pure insanity.