Chapter 3: The Library incident

By morning, the blizzard had sealed the estate in silence.

Snow pressed thickly against every window, muting the world into something distant and unreachable. Even sound felt swallowed, softened, as though the house itself had decided nothing from outside mattered anymore.

Chloe, as usual, was immune to atmosphere.

“There’s an après-ski thing happening at one of the lodges,” she announced, hopping into a neon pink puffer jacket. “Spiked cocoa. Fire pits. Hot guys pretending they know how to ski.”Emphasis on the hot guys,she giggled.

Elena barely looked up from the stack of textbooks on her desk.

“I can’t,” she said. “I really need to study.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “You’re allergic to fun. Fine. Dad’s buried in work, so you’ll have the library all to yourself. It’s basically a monastery.”

She kissed Elena’s cheek and was gone moments later.

Elena watched the SUV disappear into the snowfall.

The house exhaled.

For the first time, she was alone here with Julian.

---

The library wrapped around her like a secret.

Dark oak shelves climbed toward the domed ceiling, ladders resting against them like waiting sentinels. Firelight danced across leather-bound spines, the crackle of burning logs the only sound.

Elena set her books out carefully, grounding herself in structure.

Focus. Read. Ignore the quiet.

She managed it for a while. A Few hours later 

Then the doors opened.

The shift was immediate the subtle tightening in her stomach, the awareness sliding down her spine like a warning.

Julian.

He wasn’t wearing a suit.

A black cashmere sweater clung to his broad shoulders, the sleeves pushed back to reveal strong forearms, veins faintly visible beneath skin warmed by the fire. He looked unguarded. More dangerous for it.

“You didn’t go with Chloe,” he said, his voice low in the vast space.

“I have an exam,” Elena replied, keeping her eyes on the page.

His footsteps approached, unhurried.

“Ambitious,” he murmured. “Admirable.”

He stopped behind her.

Not beside. Not across.

Behind.

His hands came down on the desk on either side of her, bracketing her chair. Heat radiated from him, his presence heavy and enclosing. Elena’s breath stuttered before she could stop it.

“Executive privilege,” he read softly. “The right to withhold.”

His finger traced the line of text.

Then his knuckles brushed her bare arm.

The contact was light casual enough to deny, intimate enough to feel deliberate. Her skin reacted instantly, tightening, warming.

“You’re tense,” Julian observed.

“I’m fine.”

He leaned closer, his breath stirring the hair at her temple. “You’re lying.”

Elena swallowed.

He moved around the desk and sat beside her, close enough that their thighs nearly touched. He picked up her highlighter, rolling it between his fingers slowly.

“Do you feel like you owe me, Elena?”

The question slid beneath her skin.

“I work hard,” she said. “I want to deserve”

His hand rose.

He didn’t touch her face. Didn’t touch her mouth.

Instead, his fingers settled at the nape of her neck, warm and steady, his thumb brushing the sensitive skin just behind her ear.

The effect was immediate and humiliating.

Her breath went shallow. Her thoughts scattered.

“Relax,” he said quietly. “You don’t need to perform for me.”

His thumb moved again. Once. Twice.

Elena’s knees weakened.

“Julian…” she whispered.

Her use of his name changed the air. His hand tightened slightly, tilting her head just enough to expose the line of her throat.

“Chloe isn’t here,” he said calmly. “And you’re an adult. Don’t insult either of us by pretending you don’t know what this is.”

"Besides you didn't have this reaction while you moaned my name last night ". He teased 

Her face burned in embarrassment," I ...no that's...

He stood, drawing her up with him without effort. She rose because his hand guided her, because resisting felt suddenly impossible.

They were close now. Too close.

His body blocked the light from the fire, shadowing her. She could smell him clean, dark, intoxicating. His gaze dropped, briefly, to her lips.

Elena’s pulse throbbed low and fast.

“If you want me to stop,” Julian said softly, “say it.”

He didn’t touch her again.

Didn’t need to.

The silence stretched, thick and trembling. Elena’s hands curled at her sides, nails biting into her palms. Her body leaned forward a fraction before she could stop herself.

Julian’s mouth hovered near hers, his breath warm, controlled.

Her lips parted.

That was all the answer he needed.

A car engine growled faintly in the distance.

Julian straightened instantly.

His hand fell away. His expression smoothed, the heat vanishing behind composed restraint. He stepped back, reclaiming space with ruthless ease.

“We’ll continue another time,” he said evenly.

Moments later, Chloe burst into the library, flushed and loud and unaware.

Julian was already by the fire, stirring the embers as though nothing had happened.

Elena sank back into her chair, legs trembling, skin stil

l buzzing where he’d never quite crossed the line and yet somehow had.

The danger wasn’t that he wanted her.

It was that she wanted him back.