Not over

“Fuck,” I groaned, balling up the seventh piece of paper and tossing it into the trash.

I’d been glued to this chair for the past eight hours, staring at a blank page. Not a single usable word. It’d been two years since I released my last book, and my publisher had been breathing down my neck for months to get something started. But here I was—burnt out, uninspired, blocked.

I turned my swivel chair toward my phone. 2:03 PM. I hadn’t even gone downstairs all morning. Then again, I couldn’t blame myself. The house was too big. Everything I needed was upstairs—except the main kitchen. There was a smaller kitchenette near my room, but the real pantry was downstairs.

I continued brainstorming, I had already gotten an idea, I didn’t just know how to put it.

I rubbed my hands on my face, looking down at myself.

Married to a billionaire and I wore nothing but a baggy t-shirt with nothing under it. You need to up your night-wear game, Dianne.

Just then I heard the door open and I saw Noah, wearing a perfectly fitted black suit, his white sleeves rolled up.

“Oh—shit. Sorry, I didn’t know this was your room.”

His voice caught me off guard. Noah stood by the door, frozen mid-step.

“It’s fine. I wasn’t expecting anyone.”I said nonchalantly, it was Noah, that lovey phase was over, so I didn’t care about how I looked in front of him anymore.

My response gave him permission to continue walking down until he came beside me, crouching down to check the drawers underneath the desk.

The softness of his skin brushing through my bare thighs, sending a shiver down my spine. I cleared my throat. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

He started pulling out a few old journals—worn but neatly kept—setting them down one by one until I lost track.

“I, uh…” He paused when he reached a red one, setting it aside with a little more care before sliding the others back into place.

“I came to get my mom’s journal. This used to be her writing room.”

My eyes widened. “Oh… Richard didn’t mention that,” I murmured, guilt prickling through me.

He shook his head lightly. “It’s fine. It’s been unused for years,” he said, offering a faint smile that flickered and disappeared almost as quickly as it came. “Glad someone’s finally breathing life into it again.”

I didn’t know much about the Wilson family. Simone had mentioned once that Noah’s mother either passed away or divorced Richard—rumors, mostly. Inever asked.

And though I wanted to now, something about the softness in Noah’s features stopped me. If she wasn’t alive, I didn’t want to stir up anything painful.

I sighed instead, quietly.

“What?” Noah asked, probably noticing my hesitation.

He tilted his head, slightly curious. “It’s okay Dianne, ask your question. I don't bite,” he said in an almost chuckling tone.

“What.. Happened to your mom?” I finally asked.

“She died in a car accident. Ten years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, my tone sincere.

“Yeah, me too.”

I offered a smile, understanding small, but he didn't return it, instead, he gave a quick nod, turning away to leave.

“Your collar,” I said, standing up. “It’s crooked.”

He paused, “What?”

“Come here. I’ll fix it.”

He stepped forward without hesitation, just to fill the space between.

I brushed my fingers against the edge of his collar, straightening it lightly, then his neck. I didn't mean to linger, but I did anyway.

“You always fix your husband’s collar like this?” he asked, voice low.

My eyes met his. “Hard to do that with a husband who’s never around.”

He let out a faint breath, almost like a laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’ll get used to it.”

I was done arranging his collar but my hand still lingered around his neck, making his eyes lock onto mine with an intense gaze.

“We are supposed to be keeping our distance,” he reminded, his voice low and deep.

“I know,” I replied, taking his hand and guiding it down to my waist, letting him feel the curve of my ass and his jaw tightened as I gently rubbed it. It sent goosebumps all over me.

“Where are your panties?” he whispered, his voice laced with a raw, desperate hunger.

“Not on me,” I said, lifting his other hand and placing it over my left breast, helping him caress it.

His hands moved on their own then, gripping my breast gently—like he’d been wanting to do it the second he stepped into the room.

He massaged it softly, making a soft moan escape my mouth. His thumb brushed over my nipple, slowly, his gaze never leaving mine before he froze still and stopped.

“I can't.” he muttered.

I slipped my fingers between my thighs for just a second, touching my wet walls before smearing my arousal on his fingers.

His fingers twitched, like they wanted to grab and pin me against the wall.

But he didn’t.

Then slowly, he pulled away, his voice rough and strained. “Don’t do that again."

"Why?"

“Dianne?”

Richard’s voice boomed from the hallway. We both jerked apart.

Panic bloomed across Noah’s face. My heartbeat shot up. I wiped my fingers against the fabric of my shirt as Noah stepped back fast, like I’d burned him.

His voice came closer and closer until then door creaked open, and I saw Richard’s face.

“Oh,” Richard said, smiling like he’d walked into a picture-perfect scene. “Didn’t know you two were in here. Even better.”

His eyes scanned the room, oblivious. “Get ready, both of you. We leave for Italy in two days — the Rossi Gala. A full family appearance.”

Then, to me, “It’ll be good for press. Us, together.”

I nodded, but I wasn’t sure what I was agreeing to.

My gaze slid to Noah. That shadow returned in his eyes the second he looked at Richard. I didn’t know what it meant, but I felt it.

A small smile almost curled on my lips.

Dianne, did you just smear your wetness all over Noah’s hands?

I wasn’t used to feeling this awake. God, what had this man done to me? He made me feel things I’d never felt—do things I never dreamed I would.

Richard, on the other hand, made me feel… numb.

It was like Noah had brought my spark back from wherever I’d buried it

Thank God I wasn’t going alone with Richard—Noah was coming with us.

I told myself it was no big deal. That this trip would finally wash all the Noah-induced horniness out of my system.

But the way his eyes lingered on me as Richard talked and the way my body still burned from where his hands had been?

I feared this wasn’t over.