chapter 6. Car ride

Emily

The day passed in a haze of polite conversation, carefully curated activities, and subtle tension. I had spent the hours after breakfast wandering the Carter estate under Rhoda's guidance, helping in the garden, attending to small family errands, sharing tea with Nathan's parents.

I tried to stay composed, engaging only when necessary, smiling politely, nodding in agreement, responding in measured tones. Yet every laugh, every gesture, felt dampened by a lingering awareness of what had happened the night before.

Lunch was quiet, filled with carefully selected topics: minor family events, distant relatives, the occasional gentle tease about my engagement. Nathan was easy enough, keeping his tone distant yet polite. He seemed relieved to let the morning pass without the weight of pretense, giving me room to navigate my own thoughts.

The afternoon dragged, slow but intentionally pleasant. Rhoda insisted we sit in the drawing room, and I complied, hiding my tension beneath polite smiles as she recounted old family anecdotes. The jade bracelet I'd refused that morning sat untouched in her hands, a quiet reminder of the small victory I'd claimed and the much larger thing I hadn't.

By early evening, shadows stretched long across the manicured lawns, and I felt the first stirrings of anticipation I didn't want to examine too closely.

It was at that moment Adrian returned.

The sound of the front doors caught my attention before I could process it. Nathan, seated near the window, straightened instinctively, his easy demeanor stiffening.

I turned just in time to see Adrian enter, immaculate in his tailored suit, hair perfectly in place, that impossible air of control radiating around him. My stomach constricted, a mixture of anticipation and nerves. I'd spent hours managing myself, keeping my mind occupied, and yet seeing him made all of it fade into background noise.

His gaze swept the room and paused on me. My pulse accelerated. There was a faint curve to his lips, just enough to suggest he knew exactly what he did to me, and the effect it had.

"Emily," he greeted, his voice calm but deliberate, smooth like silk sliding over steel. "Do you plan to stay the night again?" A glint in his eyes. He was teasing me.

"No—no. I should get going." I stammered, cursing myself for it.

God.

Breathe, Emily. Breathe.

A maid came down with my bag a moment later and I almost snatched it from her.

"I'll drop you off," Nathan offered.

"Don't worry," Adrian replied, taking my bags from me. " It's on my way, I'll take her home"

Nathan's expression shifted from polite concern to something closer to relief. "I... I suppose I'll let you escort her, Uncle," he said, attempting casual nonchalance. "Thanks."

Adrian inclined his head, a subtle acknowledgment, but his gaze never left me. Nathan muttered his thanks again and left the room without another word.

I watched him go, feeling a pang of something I couldn't name—relief, maybe, or the strange frustration that Nathan didn't carry even a fraction of the intensity Adrian did. I pushed the thought away and focused back on the man in front of me.

"Let's go," Adrian said, turning with effortless authority.

I followed, careful not to let the tumble of nerves and anticipation in my stomach show on my face. Every step he took was precise, measured, like a predator moving through familiar territory.

At the car, he opened the door for me, his presence lingering close, almost magnetic, as I climbed in. The engine started smoothly, its hum filling the silence between us. I kept my hands folded neatly in my lap, trying to hold onto some composure while my mind buzzed with the awareness of him beside me.

"Uncle?" I asked finally, trying to keep the panic and irritation out of my voice.

"I missed you," he replied, like it was the obvious answer to a question I hadn't asked.

I stared at him. "Missed me? It hasn't even been—what—twenty-four hours. And what does that have to do with anything? I asked you a question."

He glanced at me, dark eyes unwavering. "I don't care about the hours. I missed you. Does being his uncle mean I can't?"

"Being his uncle means we can't be doing any of this," I said, turning fully toward him, arms folding beneath my chest. "I thought you were a friend. A business partner, at worst. Not family. Not a whole generation apart from me."

"We can't be together," I said again, firmer this time, maybe saying it twice would make it true.

He didn't argue. He just watched me, something unreadable behind his eyes, and asked, quietly, "Are you okay?"

I blinked, thrown by the sudden shift. "What?"

"Down there," he said, eyes flicking down to my thighs. "Are you still...?"

Heat crawled up my neck at the realization. I looked away, mortified. Who asks something like that without any shame?

"I'm fine," I managed, despite my body aching in protest at the lie.

He didn't look convinced. If anything, the admission seemed to soften something in him. "Emily." His voice dropped, quieter now, none of the earlier teasing in it. "Nobody's asking you to marry me tomorrow. I'm not going to hurt you, and I'm not going to force anything you don't want. We agreed this stays between us. That hasn't changed."

I hated that it helped. I hated more that I let it.

He leaned in slowly, giving me every chance to stop him, and kissed me—soft at first, careful, asking for permission. The same way he'd done again and again last night.

I told myself I should pull away. He was Nathan's uncle. Generations apart. The scandal this would cause.

Still, as his hand slid to the back of my neck, and the kiss deepened, no longer asking, I felt myself leaning into it despite everything, and it was only when his fingers found the hem of my dress that some scrap of sense returned to me.

I pushed against his chest. "Adrian—your assistant." My eyes darted to the front seat, voice dropping to a whisper.

"He won't hear anything," Adrian murmured, but he reached forward anyway. A soft mechanical hum, and the partition rose, sealing the front seat away behind tinted glass and silence.

That was the only warning I got before his mouth was on mine again, harder now, and he drew me across the seat into his lap.

I went still the moment I settled against him, sore in a way that made itself known immediately, and he must have felt it in how my body tensed, because his hands gentled at once, smoothing along my sides.

"Tell me if it's too much," he said against my throat, and there was nothing teasing left in his voice at all.

It was, for a moment, and I winced, my fingers curling into his shoulder. He stopped instantly, waiting, watching me with the same careful attention he'd shown the night before. When I nodded, he moved slow, unhurried, and it felt like he was spending every drop of patience on making sure it didn't hurt.

The car kept moving the whole time, the city sliding past the windows, indifferent to everything happening behind a driver's seat.

By the time I surfaced again, I was a mess—hair undone, dress creased beyond saving. Adrian smoothed a strand back from my face, something almost tender in it, and I was too worn out to shrug him off.

The car hummed on down the road, and I let my head rest against him, watching the city blur past until my eyes grew heavy and I dozed off, my questions forgotten for now.

I felt the car stop and opened my eyes. I was home. My head was on Adrian's shoulder.

I straightened, my neck stiff from how I'd slept.

Brushing my hair back with a hand and pulling myself together, I reached for the door. "Thank you for the ride."

But, before I could open it, he pulled me back, pressing a chaste kiss to my lips. "Goodnight."

I blushed. "Good night."​