Chapter 64: A Dangerous Cocktail

The world outside the Rolls-Royce was a watercolor smear of rain-spattered light and dark, but inside, the universe had contracted to the space between their clasped hands. The rumble of the engine was a distant hum, the din of the city a muffled echo. There was only the jarring heat of skin against skin, the frantic, syncopated beat of two heartbeats slowly achieving a common rhythm, and the stark, unadorned truth suspended in the air between them.

Clarkson's grip on his was not the firm, authoritative hold of a CEO. It was a lifeline. His fingers were clamped around Jonah's with an enthusiasm that bellowed of a man who had just chucked his most precious principle—detachment—out the window and was now falling without a parachute. He didn't look at Jonah. His head was cocked, his forehead nearly against the cold glass of the window, as if it was all his strength to just grasp another human's hand.

Jonah remained still, not wanting to break the illusion. He felt the faint shake of Clar