Emma spent the rest of the day drowning in case files, but no amount of legal jargon could erase the memory of Alex's words in the elevator.
You feel it too.
She hated that he was right.
The tension between them had been building for months, an unspoken challenge neither of them had been willing to acknowledge. But now, after last night, after the way he looked at her, she knew they were playing a dangerous game—one that neither of them could afford to lose.
Her phone buzzed against her desk.
Alex Kingston: Dinner. Tonight.
Her fingers hesitated over the screen.
He wasn't asking.
He was daring her.
She should ignore it. She should remind him they were opponents, not whatever the hell this was turning into.
Instead, she found herself typing.
Emma Carter: I don't have time for your games, Kingston.
The response came almost instantly.
Alex Kingston: Who said anything about games?
Emma exhaled sharply, setting her phone face-down on the desk as if that would somehow stop her pulse from racing.
Damn him.
Damn his confidence.
Damn the way he made her want to throw logic out the window.
—
By the time she left the office, the city had dipped into twilight, streetlights flickering to life as she made her way to the parking garage.
She had barely reached her car when a familiar voice stopped her in her tracks.
"Going somewhere, Carter?"
Emma turned sharply, already knowing who she'd see.
Alex leaned against his sleek black car, arms crossed, that infuriating smirk playing at his lips.
She narrowed her eyes. "Are you stalking me now?"
He pushed off the car, closing the distance between them in slow, measured steps.
"If I was stalking you, I wouldn't be so obvious." His gaze flicked over her, dark and unreadable. "But I prefer to think of this as... persistence."
Emma scoffed. "You call ambushing me in a parking garage persistence?"
Alex tilted his head, studying her. "I call it making sure you don't run."
Her breath hitched.
Run.
Like he knew exactly what she was doing.
Like he knew that no matter how many times she told herself to stay away, she was one push away from giving in.
She clenched her jaw. "I'm not running from anything."
Alex stepped closer, the space between them vanishing. "Aren't you?"
Emma swallowed, hating the way her body betrayed her, drawn to him despite every warning blaring in her head.
This was dangerous.
This was reckless.
This was inevitable.
He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers barely grazing her skin. "Have dinner with me."
It wasn't a question.
It was a challenge.
Emma's pulse pounded in her ears.
She should say no. She needed to say no.
Instead, her lips parted—and to her absolute horror, the word that slipped out was—
"…Fine."
Alex's smirk deepened, and just like that, she knew—
She had just made a mistake she would never be able to take back.
—
To be continued…