06

Emma stepped into her Brooklyn apartment, the sound of the door clicking shut behind her a welcome relief. The space was small but cozy, filled with mismatched furniture and the faint scent of vanilla candles. Lily Harper, her best friend and roommate, was sprawled on the couch, her laptop balanced precariously on her knees.

“Hey,” Lily called out, barely looking up. “How was your big night with Mr. Perfect?”

Emma sighed, dropping her bag by the door. “He’s not perfect.”

Lily snorted, finally glancing up with a mischievous grin. “Oh, please. Nathan Blackwood? The guy’s practically a walking romance novel. Tall, dark, and ridiculously wealthy. What’s not perfect about that?”

Emma rolled her eyes, though a faint smile tugged at her lips. “He’s… complicated.”

“Complicated?” Lily echoed, her tone dripping with skepticism. “Translation: he’s got you all twisted up. Admit it. You’re into him.”

Emma hesitated, sinking into the armchair across from Lily. “I don’t know what I’m into. He’s just… different. Intense. And not in a way I’m used to.”

Lily leaned forward, her interest piqued. “Different how? Like, creepy different? Or hot different?”

“A bit of both,” Emma admitted, her cheeks flushing. “He’s enigmatic. One minute, he’s charming and attentive, and the next, he’s completely inscrutable. It’s like he’s always three steps ahead of me.”

Lily raised an eyebrow. “Sounds exhausting. You sure you’re not just falling for his money?”

Emma shook her head. “It’s not about that. It’s… something else. He makes me feel like I’m on the edge of something I don’t quite understand.”

Lily smirked. “Sounds like you’re in over your head. Just be careful, Em. Guys like that don’t play fair.”

Emma nodded, but her thoughts were already drifting back to Nathan. Careful. It was the same word James had used. But caution felt like the last thing she wanted tonight.

---

Two days later, Emma found herself at a charity gala, the kind of event she’d only ever read about in books. The ballroom was a sea of glittering gowns and tailored suits, the air thick with the mingling scents of champagne and expensive perfume. She felt out of place, her simple black dress and modest jewelry a stark contrast to the opulence around her.

But then she saw him.

Nathan stood at the center of the room, his gray eyes scanning the crowd with practiced ease. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored tuxedo, the fabric hugging his broad shoulders in a way that made Emma’s breath catch. As if sensing her presence, his gaze locked onto hers, and a slow, knowing smile spread across his lips.

Emma’s heart skipped a beat as he began to make his way toward her, the crowd parting like the Red Sea. “Ms. Stone,” he greeted, his voice smooth and low. “I was hoping I’d see you here.”

“Mr. Blackwood,” she replied, her voice steadier than she felt. “You seem to have a knack for showing up where I least expect you.”

He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. “Luck, perhaps. Or fate. I’ve always been a believer in the latter.”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “Fate? That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

Nathan’s smile deepened, and he extended a hand. “Dance with me.”

It was less a request and more a command, but Emma found herself placing her hand in his without hesitation. As he led her to the dance floor, she became acutely aware of the eyes on them—the whispers, the speculative glances. But none of it mattered when Nathan pulled her close, his hand resting on the small of her back.

The music was slow and sultry, a melody that seemed to echo the tension between them. Emma’s body tingled as their movements became a silent conversation, every step drawing them closer together. She could feel the heat of his body through the fabric of his tuxedo, and when he leaned down, his breath brushed against her ear.

“You look exquisite tonight,” he murmured, his voice a velvet caress.

Emma’s breath hitched, but she managed to keep her tone light. “Is that your way of saying I clean up well?”

Nathan chuckled, the sound vibrating through her. “You’re always beautiful, Emma. But tonight… you’re radiant.”

Her cheeks burned at the compliment, and she glanced up to meet his gaze. “You’re not playing fair.”

His smirk was pure sin. “I never do.”

The song ended, but Nathan didn’t release her. Instead, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “Come to my penthouse tomorrow. I want to show you something.”

Emma’s pulse quickened, her mind racing with possibilities. “What kind of something?”

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto hers with that same unnerving intensity. “Let’s just say… I have peculiar tastes. And I think you’ll find them… intriguing.”

Emma hesitated, torn between the voice in her head screaming caution and the growing ache in her chest that begged her to say yes. In the end, it was Nathan’s gaze—so full of promise and danger—that tipped the scales.

“Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I’ll come.”

Nathan’s smile was triumphant, and he pressed a lingering kiss to her hand before releasing her. “Until tomorrow, then.”

As he walked away, Emma stood frozen, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t know what she’d just agreed to, but one thing was certain: whatever Nathan had in store for her, it was going to change everything.

Emma’s heart thrummed in her chest as she stood outside Nathan’s penthouse door, her fingers hovering over the sleek, brass handle. The sun had barely set, and the city below buzzed with its usual relentless energy, but here, in this moment, everything felt still. She wasn’t supposed to arrive until tomorrow, but something—some unnameable pull—had compelled her to come early. She drew in a deep breath, steadying herself, and pushed the door open.

The penthouse was dimly lit, the soft glow of the city skyline filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The air smelled faintly of sandalwood and sweat, a heady combination that made her pulse quicken. She stepped inside, her heels clicking softly against the polished marble floor, and her eyes immediately landed on him.

Nathan stood near the edge of the room, his back to her, shirtless and glistening with sweat. The muscles of his shoulders and back rippled as he toweled off, the fabric of his workout shorts clinging to his hips. Emma’s breath caught in her throat. She had seen glimpses of his physique before—the tailored suits he wore left little to the imagination—but this was something else entirely. He was raw, unguarded, and utterly breathtaking.

She hesitated for a moment, her mind racing. Should I leave? Should I make my presence known? But her body seemed to move of its own accord, her feet carrying her closer to him, her fingers twitching with the urge to touch. She stopped just behind him, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his skin, and before she could second-guess herself, she reached out.

Her fingertips traced the ridges of his muscles, feather-light but deliberate. Nathan stilled, the towel dropping from his hands, and Emma swallowed hard as she felt him tense under her touch. She leaned in, her lips brushing against the curve of his ear, her voice barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t wait any longer.”

He turned abruptly, his gray eyes dark with something that sent a shiver down her spine. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the air between them crackling with electricity. Then, without a word, he closed the distance between them, his hands gripping her waist as he pulled her into a searing kiss.

Emma gasped against his mouth, her hands flying to his shoulders to steady herself. His kiss was demanding, possessive, and she melted into it, her body pressing against his as if trying to close any remaining space between them. His hands roamed her body, sliding up her sides and over her back, teasing the hem of her blazer before slipping underneath to feel the warmth of her skin.

“Nathan,” she breathed, her voice trembling as he broke the kiss to trail his lips down her neck. His teeth grazed her collarbone, and she arched into him, her fingers tangling in his damp hair. He hummed against her skin, the sound sending a bolt of heat straight to her core.

With a sudden, fluid motion, Nathan lifted her into his arms, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. She let out a surprised laugh, her hands braced against his chest, but he only smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he carried her toward the bedroom.

“You’re full of surprises, Ms. Stone,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “I like that.”

Emma’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away, her gaze locked with his as he set her down on the edge of the bed. He stepped back, his eyes roaming over her with a hunger that made her skin tingle. Slowly, he reached for the buttons of her blazer, his fingers nimble and deliberate as he undid them one by one. Emma’s breath hitched as he slid the fabric off her shoulders, revealing the delicate lace of her camisole beneath.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, his hands smoothing over her shoulders and down her arms before coming to rest on her hips. He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a whisper of a kiss, and Emma’s hands fisted in the sheets beneath her, her heart pounding in her chest.