Time stretched. The silence in the small space grew heavy, thick with unspoken words and the lingering electricity from his touch.

Jordyn couldn't look at him. Looking at him made her feel too much, too fast. So she stared straight ahead, at the top button of his shirt. She focused on it, trying to anchor her racing mind.

But her mind wouldn't stay anchored. It drifted, imagining what those long, elegant fingers might feel like if they weren't attached to a Wall Street tycoon. If they were attached to an artist, maybe. Someone who would use them to paint, to sculpt, to touch her with the same intensity he used to close a deal.

She bit her lower lip, hard, trying to snap herself out of it. The sharp pain brought her back to reality, but it also brought a rush of color to her cheeks.

Hoyt saw it all. The way her pupils dilated as she stared at his chest. The way her teeth sank into the plump flesh of her lip. He knew exactly what it meant.

What are you thinking about? he wondered, a dark thrill coursing through him. You look like you're thinking about sin. Are you thinking about me?

A faint smile touched the corners of his mouth before he quickly suppressed it, replacing it with a look of stern concern.

"We have a problem," he said, his voice low and serious.

Jordyn's head snapped up, her daydream shattered. "What? What is it?"

"I think they're getting suspicious," Hoyt said, looking past her shoulder toward the door. "Gus is looking this way."

Jordyn's stomach dropped. She twisted her head to look, but the angle was bad. All she could see was the same sliver of light under the door.

Gus isn't looking this way.

He turned his head back to her, catching her gaze and holding it. His gray eyes were dark, unreadable. "Hiding like this... it makes us look guilty. If they come over here, we're caught."

Jordyn felt a fresh wave of panic. "So what do we do?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Hoyt held her gaze for a long moment, pretending to wrestle with a difficult decision. Then he let out a soft sigh, his expression shifting to one of reluctant resolve.

"Jordyn," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "We need to make this look... convincing."

"Convincing?" she repeated, confused.

His gaze dropped from her eyes to her mouth. He watched, mesmerized, as her tongue darted out to wet her lips in nervousness.

"Think about it," he said, his voice taking on a hypnotic quality. "If we were just hiding, we'd look suspicious. But if we were a couple... seeking a moment of privacy... nobody would question it."

Jordyn's brain short-circuited. The words "a couple" hung in the air between them, heavy and loaded. She understood what he was implying instantly. The heat rushed back to her face, ten times worse than before.

"No," she stammered, shaking her head. "I can't... Mr. David, we shouldn't..."

He lifted a hand. His index finger pressed gently against her lips, silencing her. The touch was electric. She could feel the slight roughness of his skin, the warmth of his fingertip.

"Shh," he murmured, his eyes locked on hers. They were deep, sincere, and utterly disarming. "It's just an act. It's the only way to get you out of here safely. Trust me."

Trust me. The words wrapped around her, a spell she couldn't break. He was so calm, so reasonable. He was offering her a lifeline, and she was too desperate, too grateful, to refuse.

If she said no, she was admitting she didn't trust him. She was admitting she thought he had ulterior motives. And after everything he had done for her, that felt like a betrayal.

She stood there, trapped between her shame and her survival instinct. Her heart hammered against her ribs. Then, slowly, stiffly, she nodded.

The moment she nodded, Hoyt felt a surge of triumph so intense it was almost physical. But his face remained a mask of grim duty. He couldn't let her see the predator. Not yet.

Jordyn closed her eyes. She couldn't watch. She tilted her chin up slightly, her lips parted, her body rigid with tension. She was offering herself up, waiting for the blow.

She waited for the press of his lips. The invasion. The kiss that would seal this strange bargain.

It didn't come.

Instead, she felt a feather-light touch on her mouth. Hoyt's thumb brushed across her lower lip, slowly, deliberately. The pad of his finger was warm, slightly calloused, and the sensation it sparked was nothing like she had imagined.

It wasn't an invasion. It was a caress. A slow, melting heat that spread from her lips down to her toes.

Jordyn's eyes flew open.

He was looking at her. His gray eyes were dark, the pupils blown wide, but his expression was one of absolute control. There was no lust on his face. Only a gentle, almost paternal restraint.

To kiss you now would be too easy, he thought, his thumb lingering on the soft curve of her lip. It would be taking. I want you to give. I want you to beg for it. This... this is enough to make you doubt everything.

"That's enough," he said, his voice a low, rough rasp. "From a distance, this looks intimate. It looks... convincing."

He pulled his hand back, breaking the contact. The air between them suddenly felt cold.

Jordyn stared at him, her mind blank. Then, a wave of shame and gratitude crashed over her, so powerful it made her dizzy.

She had thought he was going to kiss her. She had thought he was going to take advantage of the situation, of her. But he hadn't. He had stopped. He had been the perfect gentleman.

He was exactly what he appeared to be. A good man. A decent man.

Look at her, Hoyt thought, watching the emotions play across her face. She thinks I'm a saint. She has no idea I'm imagining what it would feel like to devour her whole.

His hand was still tingling from the contact. The softness of her lip was burned into his skin. He shoved his hand deep into his pocket, his fingers curling into a tight fist, his nails biting into his palm. The pain was a necessary distraction. It was the only thing keeping him from pulling her flush against him and taking what he wanted.

"Thank you," Jordyn whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for... for being so understanding."

"Call me Hoyt," he said.

It wasn't a request. It was a command, delivered with a gentle smile.

Jordyn blinked. "What?"

"'Mr. David' is too formal," he said, his tone light but firm. "After what we've just been through, I think we can drop that. I want to hear you say my name."

She hesitated. Calling him by his first name felt dangerous. It felt like crossing a line. But after what he had just done-after he had protected her and respected her-refusing seemed churlish.

"Okay," she said softly. "Hoyt."

The sound of his name on her lips sent a jolt of pure satisfaction through him. It was a small victory, but a crucial one. It was the first thread in the web.

He looked toward the door. "I think it worked. They're moving away."

Jordyn let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She believed him completely. She had no idea that she had just stepped deeper into the trap.

The tension in the small space eased, but Hoyt didn't move. He stayed right where he was, a solid, warm presence blocking her path to the door.

"Can we go now?" Jordyn asked, her voice still a little shaky. She was eager to escape the confines of the closet, the overwhelming proximity to him.

Hoyt shook his head slowly, his expression cautious. "Not yet. Gus isn't the type to give up easily. He might be waiting just out of sight."

I'm not letting you go that easily, he thought, his gaze sweeping over her face. Not when I finally have you exactly where I want you.

He softened his voice, letting a hint of warmth creep in. "Don't worry. You're safe here."

His voice was like a balm, smoothing over the raw edges of her panic. Jordyn felt herself nodding, her body unconsciously leaning a little closer to him.

Safe. It was a word she rarely felt. In the Shepard house, safety was an illusion, a thin veneer over a cauldron of criticism and control. But here, in this dark, dusty closet, with this man standing guard, she felt it.

She let out a shaky breath, her shoulders dropping. The rigid fear that had been holding her upright melted away, leaving her feeling soft and pliable.

Hoyt watched the transformation with a hungry satisfaction. She was relaxing. She was letting him in. She was becoming his.

That's it, he thought, a dark thrill curling in his chest. Get used to me. Depend on me. Learn that you can't breathe without me.

He decided to push a little further. "How is Carleigh?" he asked, his tone conversational. "Is she still stressing over her senior showcase?"

The question caught Jordyn off guard. It was so normal, so mundane, compared to the life-or-death situation they had just been in. But it worked. It grounded her.

"She is," Jordyn said, a small smile touching her lips despite herself. "She changed her theme three times last week."

Hoyt listened as she talked about her best friend. He nodded at the right moments, asked the right questions, his eyes never leaving her face. He gave her his complete, undivided attention.

It was a heady feeling. Jordyn wasn't used to being listened to. She was used to being talked at, lectured, dismissed. But Hoyt made her feel like her words mattered. Like she mattered.

The minutes slipped by. The fear faded, replaced by a strange, comfortable intimacy. Jordyn forgot about the guards outside. She forgot about the cold wall at her back. She was lost in the sound of his voice, the warmth of his presence.

Seven years I watched you from a distance, Hoyt thought, his gaze tracing the curve of her cheek. Seven years I waited. And now you're finally here, talking to me like I'm the only man in the world.

He let the silence stretch for a moment longer, savoring the feeling of her dependence. Then he glanced at his watch, a subtle movement that broke the spell.

"I think the coast is clear," he said, his voice regretful. "They've probably moved on to the other terminals."

Jordyn blinked, startled. She looked around, as if she had forgotten where they were. A flush crept up her neck as she realized how long they had been standing there, how close they still were.

"I'm so sorry," she stammered, pushing herself away from the wall. "I didn't mean to keep you. I'm sure you have important things to do."

"Mr. Dav-" she caught herself, the old habit dying hard. "Hoyt. I'm sorry."

He smiled, a warm, genuine smile that made her heart skip a beat. "Don't apologize."

He took a step back, finally giving her the space she had been craving. But as the cool air rushed in between them, Jordyn felt a sudden, sharp pang of disappointment. A foolish, irrational wish that he hadn't moved at all.