One. Two. Three. Four. Five seconds pass and then the door flies open.

  Thomas is on the other side, in his white cotton T-shirt and gym shorts, too handsome to resist. He smiles, crosses his arms over his muscular chest, his biceps deliciously bulging, and leans against the doorframe. “Hey.”

  A simple greeting, but I swoon. I have to make a conscious effort just to keep upright.

  “Forgot something?” Thomas asks, probably seeing how I’m just standing in front of him, stricken and mute.

  I bite my lower lip. Be brave, Reese. Be brave.

  “I know I said nothing could happen while our work situation isn’t sorted out, but…” Thomas tilts his head and his smile widens as I blabber on. “But I also thought, we’re in Rome. So, when in Rome, or what happens in Rome…” I put my hands forward. “And I know you won’t kiss me first.” He frowns now as if he has no idea how I know that’s his position, which, fair enough, he has no way of knowing I got it out of him while he was sleeping. “But what if I asked you to kiss me?”

  I stare into his eyes and all the amusement is gone. Thomas drops his arms, staring at me with predatory intent as he pushes off the doorframe and takes a step toward me. “Just so we’re clear, are you asking?”

  I swallow and stare him directly in the eyes. “Yes, no. I don’t know.”

  Thomas’s eyes flicker with intensity. Time stops for a second, then he takes hold of my waist and pulls me toward him, setting every nerve ending in my body alight. With a feverish intensity, I wrap my arms around his neck and finally sink my fingers into his hair as he drags me into his room to press me against the wall.

  With one hand still on my hips, he places the other flat on the wall next to my face, dropping his forehead to mine.

  “There’s nothing I’d like to do more now than kiss you,” he whispers, his voice broken, rugged. “But I haven’t talked to my father yet, and I’m not sure what our situation is going to be.”

  I’m panting heavily, my heart full of both desire and fear. “Sorry, I don’t want to mess this up,” I say breathlessly.

  Thomas leans forward to kiss the tip of my nose. “We won’t,” he says firmly. “I’ll make sure of it.”

  He nuzzles my neck and drops his hand from the wall to take my hand in his, enveloping me with warmth.

  “I meant it when I said I wanted this,” he says into my hair.

  We stand there for a moment longer, just holding each other.

  I close my eyes and absorb his closeness, feeling everything from Thomas’s breath on my neck to the subtle energy coursing through our fingers as they entwine.

  I’m safe in his arms with an emotion that surpasses physical pleasure—a soul-deep connection that tells me we are meant for one another.

  “S-so, we’re definitely not kissing?” I ask, voice trembling.

  “No.” His reply comes as a strangled groan over my neck. He drops his forehead on mine again, whispering, “But I promise waiting will be worth it.”

  I believe him. One hundred per cent. Turns out being respected is so much better than being ravaged. Any man could’ve taken me to bed tonight and to hell with the consequences. But it takes a real man to say no. To wait despite the way his body vibrates against mine with need, the same longing we share. And, anyway, Thomas’s way of respecting me still feels a little ravaging.

  He drops another kiss on my forehead and then lifts his face away from mine, barely putting any distance between us, but it’s enough for me to want to pull him closer again.

  I don’t. I just keep staring into his smoldering eyes.

  He stares right back. “You’d better say goodnight to me now, baby.”

  The way he says baby lands straight in my core like an incandescent meteor, while the idea of having to say goodbye to him, to have to go back to my room alone, freezes my throat. Hot and cold. How about we find a warm middle?

  “Can I sleep with you tonight?” I blurt out. “Just sleep.”

  Thomas smiles down at me and shakes his head.

  “If you don’t want to, I can go back to my room.”

  I make to scoot sideways, away from him, but he pins me in place with his hips.

  Oh gosh.

  “Of course I want to, Campbell.”

  “Then what is it?” I grip his arms because I need the support or I’m going to slump down this wall like a limp rag.

  “It’s that I’m still in prison, only now you’ve also left the door open and asked me not to escape.”

  “Am I the prison in this scenario?”

  He shakes his head. “No, baby, you’re freedom, you’re the light at the end of the tunnel. But I’m still a prisoner tonight.” He presses a soft kiss to my collarbone. “The most willing one.”

  That seems to have settled it for him, because next he grabs my hand and says, “Come on.” He tugs me toward him. Then, unexpectedly, he scoops me up and carries me over to his bed.

  Before he can drop me, I protest, “I need to change first.”

  Thomas does a one-eighty with me still in his arms and brings me back to my room. He gently drops me on the floor and sits on the bed.

  I walk between his legs and pull his hair back, admiring his beautiful face. “Close your eyes.”

  29

  THOMAS

  I close my eyes and weirdly enough not seeing what’s happening is more sensual than if I was watching her undress.

  Reese stays put between my legs as she pulls the soft sweater she was wearing over her head. I can tell that’s what she’s doing from the sounds and movements she makes. I brush my hands up the back of her thighs over her leggings until the fabric comes loose, and she shimmies out of it. She must be down to her underwear now, and there’s never been sweeter torture than not being able to see her in it.

  Reese leans sideways. If I had to guess, to retrieve those silky PJs from under the pillow. Fabric swooshes. Then she’s back to standing straight between my legs.

  I explore with my hands. She’s half bare and half covered in silk in what I suppose are PJ shorts and a loose tank top. I’m dying to know what color.

  Speaking like a man who hasn’t had a drink of water for days, I ask, “What color is the silk?”

  Her fingers brush over my hair, making my scalp prickle, the goosebumps traveling down my spine.

  “A deep green with an orange carrot pattern.”

  My eyes flutter open, my lips pulling apart into a smile. “You’re lying.”

  I look down at her and a breath catches in my throat as I take in the simple pale pink silk, and all the smooth skin in between.

  I pull her up and drop her onto the bed, tickling her sides. “Didn’t anyone tell you it’s bad to lie?”

  She laughs and tries to wiggle free. “Please, stop. Please.”

  Her laughter is music to my ears. I keep tickling her until tears stream down her face.

  When I finally stop, she’s panting, her cheeks flushed with color. She looks up at me with wide eyes that are full of emotion.

  I have to muster every drop of self-control I possess to pull away from her and roll over to my side of the bed.

  “You’d better burrow under those covers if you want me to keep acting like a gentleman,” I threaten.

  Reese is still catching her breath. “Are gentlemen notorious for their merciless tickling?” she teases but still wiggles under the soft, white covers, leaving only a sliver of her tantalizing skin exposed. Collarbones shouldn’t be that sexy, but I might die if I don’t touch one of hers now. I trace a finger down her left one, and she shivers under the blankets.

  I shake my head and crawl in beside her, pulling the blankets up to our chins.

  “Are you cold?” she asks.

  I turn my face on the pillow to watch her. Her hair is fanned out around her face, framing it in a brown-pink halo like Botticelli’s Venus.

  “No, this is just a precautionary measure.”

  She blushes and bites her lower lip.

  “Don’t do that,” I say, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

  “You have the most beautiful eyes,” she says.

  I grin. “Smoldering, I believe someone once said.” I waggle my eyebrows.

  “Jerk.” She pushes me away but I grab her and tuck her into me.

  Her warmth against me is divine. I bury my face in her hair to savor it better, reveling in the sweet scent of her shampoo. She reaches for the switch on the wall and plunges the room into almost complete darkness.

  In the dark, she whispers, “I never thought not being kissed would be so romantic.”

  “I never thought I’d be the one to say no to kissing you.”

  “Have you wanted to do it for a long time?”

  I pull her further into me, molding her back to my front. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since day one, Campbell.”

  She makes a small noise and turns in my arms to face me. Even if we can’t see each other, I know she’s looking at me. Reese tentatively traces her hand up my arm and cups my face, dropping a gentle kiss on my cheek. “Thank you for waiting.”

  I want to say thank you for existing, but that seems a little melodramatic. Instead, I flip her back into a spooning position and ask, “Which website did Chewbacca get arrested for creating?”

  She shakes her head on the pillow.

  “Wookieleaks.”

  Reese laughs, which makes me smile, and I’m still smiling when I fall asleep with her in my arms.

  30

  REESE

  Waking up next to Thomas is not awkward even if I’m half-naked and he’s… happy to see me? I scoot away from the warmth of his body before I auto-combust and do something stupid. After putting a little space between us, I drink in his beautiful sleeping face like a total creep who watches people sleeping.

  I groan.

  Eyes still closed, he reaches out for me and pulls me back in, careful to keep a respectful distance between us. “Don’t freak out, Campbell, we’re fine.”

  And somehow, I believe him. I snuggle back into his embrace until the alarm sounds and we’re jerked back to reality.

  Our time in Rome flies by all too quickly and before I know it, we’re headed to the airport and back to the States.

  As the plane takes off, I can feel Thomas’s eyes on me. I turn to face him and find him smiling at me; the smile quickly turns into a mischievous smirk. He reaches for my hand and our fingers intertwine, the usual tingles shooting up my arm.

  The entire time on the plane, I can’t stop smiling like an idiot whenever our eyes meet. And when we land, I’m not even that tired—mostly energized. Admittedly, traveling comfortably nestled in the first-class thrones might’ve helped.

  We make our way through customs and baggage claim—which takes forever—and when we reach the arrivals hall where all the other passengers are being met by friends and family, a company driver is waiting for us with Mercer Robotics spelled out in black pixels on a white screen.

  It’s a jarring return to reality. One where Thomas, as of now, is still on a path to becoming my future boss and therefore undatable. Untouchable. Unkissable.

  Subconsciously, I take a step away from him, putting some professional distance between us.

  Since it’s Sunday, at least we’re not going straight to the office but back to our respective places. Thomas insists on driving to mine first.

  We’re quiet on the drive, lost in our own thoughts. When we reach my apartment, I want nothing more than to invite him in—and if we’d ridden here in a regular cab, I probably would have. But our driver works for the company, he could spread gossip, and so I purse my lips and keep quiet.

  We end up having the most awkward parting on the curb. Thomas seems undecided on how to say goodbye, when it looks like he’s going in for a hug, I push my arm forward and offer him my hand to shake.

  Thomas smirks but still takes my proffered hand—but in a way that’s not strictly professional. I don’t know how a handshake can be turned sensual, but he manages it. It could be the way he touches me, the twinkle in his eyes, or the playful smile that tugs at his lips.

  And when he winks at me and says, “See, you tomorrow at the office, Campbell,” my heart does a somersault.

  I watch him climb back into the car and wave at me through the window. As the car pulls away, a pang of sadness hits me. I turn around and head into my building, feeling despondent. In my apartment, I sag onto the couch and grab my purse, wanting to send him a text or at least stalk his Instagram a bit. Instead, hidden in the folds of my bag, I find a blue note.

  The thrill is so intense because I wasn’t expecting this one.

  Rome wasn’t built in a day, but I’ll talk with my dad soon.

  Thomas, x

  PS. What do you call an invisible droid?

  C-through-PO.

  The joke is so cringe that I laugh my head off. Then, I hug the Post-it to my chest as I smile at the ceiling. Monday morning can’t come fast enough.

  31

  THOMAS

  The moment I turn the corner from Reese’s building, my phone rings in my pocket. Gabriel.

  “Where are you?” He growls down the line the second I pick up. “You’re thirty minutes late for brunch.”

  Brunch at my parents, shit. I’d completely forgotten about it.

  “Ah, yeah, sorry, I don’t think I’m going to make it.”

  I can almost picture Gabriel’s raised eyebrow. “How come?”

  “I just landed after an intercontinental flight, and traffic is bad. No chances of me getting to the Upper East Side in time.”

  “Intercontinental? Where did you jet to?”

  “Rome.”

  “A little Roman holiday?”

  “No, I was at a business conference.”

  “Ah.” I hear shuffling noises as if Gabriel is moving away from the rest of the family, and then he speaks again. “Were you alone or with a certain pretty department head on your business trip?”

  “I was with Mr. Mind Your Own Business, have you heard of him?”

  “Oooh, someone’s touchy today. So, what should I tell Mom and Dad?”

  “That I just came back from a work trip and I won’t be able to make it.”

  I end the call, relieved that I won’t have to face Dad today. I want to pull out of Mercer Robotics, but my father won’t enjoy having his plans thwarted, and that’s definitely a conversation I’m not looking forward to having.

  When I arrive at the office on Monday morning, Reese is already there.

  “Morning,” I say as I walk through the door.

  She lifts her head and beams at me. “Morning.”

  My first instinct is to go to her and pull her into a hug. But I have to keep myself in check—also, K-2P gets in my way, whirring and spinning in what I assume is the droid version of wagging his tail.

  I laugh and ruffle his metal exterior before heading over to my desk.

  The droid follows me. “Did you miss me?”

  “I did, but I was in good company.” I shoot Reese a look from across the office. She isn’t looking at me, but her cheeks slightly color all the same. “What about you? Did you have fun with Maria?”

  K-2P beeps in affirmation. “Even if she made me watch The Bachelor with her.”

  I snort a laugh. “You not a fan of reality TV?”

  “I don’t understand why people watch that show, and the guy wasn’t even that hot.”

  I honestly don’t have a reply to that.

  After a while, Reese stands up and walks by my desk, a gleam in her eye. “I need to do the rounds and let everyone know I’m back. Wanna come with me?”

  I nod and follow behind her as she sets out across the lab. We make our way around, stopping at each station to talk to the various team leaders about their projects. Everyone is eager to share their progress with Reese—from coding robots that can detect motion, to developing new AI algorithms for facial recognition software.

  Reese listens attentively to each of her team leaders, not missing a single detail. She offers her expertise where needed and gives praise where it’s due. Her enthusiasm for each project is infectious—it’s clear how much she loves what she does here at Mercer Robotics.

  When we run into Garrett—the process technology team leader—his eyes light up when he sees Reese, and he immediately starts talking excitedly about his work. I notice the dude does his best to pretend I don’t exist.

  After some more small talk and a few jokes between them, Reese and I continue on our tour of the lab while Garrett returns to his workstation with a spring in his step. Clearly, the guy has a crush on her, and hates me, making it even more clear why we can’t openly date while working in the same division. But that’s going to end soon.

  All the status advancement reviews go pretty well, except for the giant robotic arm in the middle of the lab which is still misbehaving.

  When we come back into the office, Reese sits at her desk and drops her head in her hands.

  “That giant thing not following instructions is bothering you, huh?” I take the chair opposite her.

  She straightens up. “I just don’t understand what we’re doing wrong. We’ve tried everything, but we just don’t seem able to switch from point-based teaching to path-based teaching.”

  I wish I could be of some help, but she might as well be speaking Parseltongue. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s nothing.” She waves me off. “I’m sure we’re going to crack it, eventually. I just wish we didn’t have the added pressure of Bios Torc Solutions being on our heels,” she says, talking about the Californian hippies—as Ari called them—trying to develop the same technology.

  “I’m not worried,” I say, and Reese frowns at me interrogatively. “If anyone can solve the issue, it’s you.”

  Her eyes flicker up to meet mine. “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she says softly, breaking eye contact to look down at her hands. “But don’t be so sure.”

  I am overcome with the urge to reach over and take her hands in mine. To kiss every single one of her knuckles.