Off Limits
"The morning after the gala... the numbers will fail permanently. But until I have identified the terminal origin of this threat, the walls must remain static. I will not touch you. I will not look at you in the dark. And I will not allow your chaotic sunshine to contaminate my processor until I can guarantee your absolute survival."
He slowly released his grip on my wrist, standing up from the edge of the dark marble tub to his full, towering height, completely overwhelming the narrow amber space of the bathroom. He looked down at his neatly wrapped black bandage, then met my wide, luminous stare with a final, unbending look of corporate detachment.
"Return to your quarters, Phoebe," he com