Page 161 of This Life of Mine

The intensity of his stare sets me on fire.

It’s at odds with the cool air drifting through the house, raising goosebumps along my arms and the back of my neck. My body can’t seem to decide whether it’s burning or freezing.

The space separating us suddenly feels very noticeable. Every inch between us feels charged with possibility.

The room seems to fade around us till my sole focus is him. The wide stance of his shoulders. The controlled stillness in his posture. The way he watches me like he’s fighting a battle with himself.

I stop a few feet away. Close enough to feel the pull. Close enough that my pulse starts to betray me.

“Careful, Lina,” he says quietly.

The warning should probably concern me. Instead, it makes my heart kick harder against my ribs.

I tilt my head back, refusing to back down. “Or what?”

His eyes darken. And suddenly I’m not sure which of us is hunting whom.

Alex reaches out, his fingers finding my waist. The touch is light. Tentative. As if he’s giving me every opportunity to pull away.

I don’t.

His gaze drops to my mouth before lifting back to my eyes, and something unspoken passes between us. Something that sends a shiver racing down my spine.

The space feels small. Warmer. Charged. The surrounding space seems to contract until my awareness is completely absorbed by him.

God. This man has no idea what he does to me. Or maybe he does. Maybe that’s what makes it worse.

I know what he’s capable of. I’ve seen glimpses of the ruthless certainty that lives beneath his calm exterior. The unwavering focus. The dangerous confidence.

I should find it intimidating. Instead, it leaves me breathless. Because standing here, looking at me like I’m the only thing in the world worth seeing, Alex isn’t frightening. He’s irresistible.

His hand tightens ever so slightly against my waist. The small movement sends a rush of heat through me and my body betrays me completely.

Every rational thought begins slipping away, one by one, until all that’s left is the way he’s looking at me. Like he’s memorizing me. Like he’s trying to commit every detail to memory.

“So…” I say.

The corner of his mouth twitches. “Yes, love?”

Love, my favorite endearment.

“Want to show me your room?” I ask, catching my lower lip between my teeth as I look up at him through my lashes.

The look I give him is anything but innocent.

A slow smile spreads across his face. There it is. That infuriatingly sexy smirk I’ve grown entirely too fond of.

His forehead rests briefly against mine, and for a brief time, we are motionless. Neither of us seems willing to break whatever this is.

“Aren’t we supposed to be reviewing my files?” His voice is low, amused.

I smile wickedly. “I think I’m a little distracted.”

The smile that answers is warm and knowing. The kind that makes my stomach flutter.

Heat blooms beneath my palm as I slide my hand down his chest, sensing the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

His eyes darken as the atmosphere shifts instantly.