Obsessed (Forbidden Desire)
Elena's hand trembled around the letter opener. The metal felt cold against her palm, and for a moment, she'd forgotten she was even holding it.
"Don't," the stranger said again, his voice soft but firm.
She stared at him. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair that fell slightly over his forehead. His eyes were a warm honey color, and they held genuine concern. Not pity. Not judgment. Just worry.
"I wasn't..." Elena started, then stopped. What could she say? That she was just holding it? That she wasn't thinking what he thought she was thinking?