CHAPTER TWO

~Jane’s POV~

Even after he cleared his throat and went into his study, my heart was still running a marathon in my chest.

Did I imagine it? Was it just the lighting in the room? Or was it real?

I shook my head hard, trying to clear the fog. No. Relax, Jane. He was Leo’s best friend. He was probably just shocked to see that the little girl he used to know had grown up. He probably still thought of me as a little sister. A very tall, slightly awkward sister.

I took a deep breath and looked around my new room. It was beautiful. Honestly, it was too nice. A massive bed, soft carpet, and a huge window looking out at the neat garden. But it still felt like a guest room. It didn't feel like home.

Later that evening, the rich scent of garlic and herbs drifted down the hall. Could Benjamin cook? Of course, he could. The man was infuriatingly perfect.

I walked into the kitchen, trying to look completely casual. He was standing at the stove, stirring something in a pan with his back to me. The way his black polo shirt hugged the broad expanse of his shoulders... Jane, stop it.

"Smells amazing," I said, keeping my voice light.

He turned instantly, a warm smile on his face. "Jane! Perfect timing. Dinner’s almost ready. I hope you like Bolognese."

"I love Bolognese," I whispered, fighting the urge to stare at the sharp line of his jaw.

We sat at his massive glass dining table. He played the part of the perfect guardian flawlessly—polite, friendly, and completely proper.

"So, how is your first semester looking?" he asked, taking a slow sip of his red wine. "You’re rounding up your first papers at the university, right? It’s a lot of pressure."

"Yeah, I guess," I said, picking at my pasta. "Just... a lot of changes all at once. You know?"

He nodded, his gaze softening. "It’s a massive adjustment, Jane. But you’ll handle it. You’ve always been a smart girl."

Smart girl. I suppressed a sigh. See? Safe. Platonic. No hungry gazes now. After dinner, he smoothly stopped me when I reached for the plates. "You’re the guest, Jane. Go relax. I’ve got the dishes."

I went back to my room, a toxic mix of frustration and disappointment forming in my chest. He was being too proper and distant. But even with the distance, I was completely aware of him. I could hear the quiet click of his keyboard from his study.

Over the next few days, I became an expert at watching him. The way he ran a hand through his dark hair when he was stressed. The way he would hum a quiet tune while making tea in the morning.

Then came the hot afternoon that changed everything.

I walked into the kitchen to grab a glass of ice water, completely unaware that he had just stepped out of his private bathroom down the hall. He stood there, with nothing but a dark towel wrapped low on his hips. His upper body was bare and wet with water droplets.

My breath trapped itself firmly in my throat.

He was breathtaking. His build was lean and heavily muscled, his abs sharply defined. My eyes tracked downward, lingering on a faint, rugged scar just above his right hip.

Benjamin froze when he saw me, his chest rising and falling heavily. I would do whatever it took to make this man mine, I murmured to myself.

The days melted into a strange routine. I shifted my strategy, making my wardrobe overtly steamy. Skirts that sat a little higher on my thighs, tops that subtly emphasized my curves. Sometimes, I’d catch his eyes lingering on me, tracking my movements across a room before he’d abruptly clear his throat, clench his jaw, and snap his attention back to his books. It was a tiny victory, but it fueled my fire.

After weeks of resistance, I decided it was time to be reckless.

I knew he was in the kitchen brewing his nightly tea. I deliberately slipped into an oversized, thigh-skimming silk button-down shirt, leaving the top three buttons undone, and walked in. I leaned against the marble counter, casually bending over to reach for a glass in the lower cabinet, ensuring he had a perfect view of my ass from behind.

When I straightened up, his gaze was rigidly fixed on my ass. It took him a full second to snap his eyes up to my face.

"There's... some leftover Bolognese in the fridge if you're hungry," he said.

I decided to push the blade in a little deeper. "You know," I said, my voice dropping to a softer, vulnerable tone as I leaned against the counter near him. "It’s weird living here. It’s so quiet without my brother."

He turned fully, mimicking my posture by leaning against the counter, though he kept a careful distance. "It’s a massive transition, Jane. I understand." His eyes were warm, but a dangerous intensity was swirling in the darkness of his pupils.

"Yeah," I murmured, taking a deliberate step closer, completely erasing his safety zone. "Sometimes I just really miss having someone close. Someone to talk to, you know?" I tilted my head up, letting my gaze drop explicitly to his lips.

Benjamin swallowed hard. "You can always talk to me, Jane. I’m here for you." His voice was incredibly low, almost a murmur.

I took the final step, entirely closing the distance between us. I could smell the heat radiating off his skin, feel the erratic rhythm of his breathing. "I know," I whispered.

Reaching out, I let my fingers brush lightly against his bare forearm. His skin was scorching hot. A violent jolt of electricity snapped straight through my spine.

His eyes widened instantly. He didn't pull away. He just stood there, completely frozen under my touch. I leaned in, just an inch, my eyes locked on his mouth. "Benjamin," I breathed.

His eyes, now stormy and dangerously dark, flickered from my lips back to my eyes.

Before I could register it, his hand shot out, pulling me tight against him, and he sharply pulled my hand away from his arm.

"Jane," he growled, his voice completely rough. "You have absolutely no idea what you're doing."

"Oh, I think I know exactly what I'm doing, Benjamin," I whispered back. I pulled against his grip gently, testing his hold. He didn't release me. In fact, his thumb began to brush in strokes against my racing pulse point.

"This isn't a game, Jane," he rasped, his jaw clenching so hard. "You're a child. You're my best friend's little sister. You are living under my roof."

"I'm not a child," I countered, lifting my chin defiantly. "I'm Eighteen, Benjamin. And I'm not just Leo's sister anymore, am I? I'm here with you."

He let out a frustrated sound that was half a groan. "You need to stop," he whispered, his eyes blazing. "Before we do something we regret."

"Regret what?" I challenged, sliding my bare foot a tiny step closer. "Feeling something? Is that what you’re so terrified of, Benjamin?"

His gaze violently swept down the entire length of my body, taking in the silk shirt and my bare legs, before snapping back to my face. The sheer hunger in his eyes was warring with pure agony. "You don't understand the implications," he muttered. "The lines we can't cross."

"Maybe I don't care about the lines," I whispered, my tone laced with a dangerous, sweet seduction.

I raised my free hand, pressing it firmly against his chest, and caressing it gently.

"Hmm!!!" he groaned. His heart was hammering so violently, like a trapped animal.

"Jane..." he breathed, his voice ragged in a broken plea.

"Tell me you don't feel it, Benjamin," I whispered. "Tell me to stop."

His chest rose and fell in rapid gasps. His gaze dropped to me, completely starved. He violently lifted me, pushed me backward against the counter, and grabbed me tighter.

He roughly placed a kiss on my lips. Before I could even process the enormity of what had just happened, a loud, insistent ring echoed through the quiet house.

The doorbell.