The next few days were dangerous.
Not because anything happened, but because nothing did.
Damian avoided me, and that felt even worse.
Every morning he left early for work.
Every evening he stayed locked in his office for hours.
Even at dinner, he barely looked at me.
It was like he was trying to erase the tension between us.
But it was impossible.
Once you noticed something, you could not unsee it.
And I had noticed everything.
The way his eyes darkened when he looked at me too long.
The way his voice changed when we stood close.
The way his whole body tensed if I touched him by mistake.
Something was happening.
Something dangerous.
Damian knew it too, which was why he was running.
I stabbed at my salad during dinner on Thursday while Damian sat across from me, checking emails on his tablet.
“You know,” I said, “most people actually talk during dinner.”
He didn’t look up.
“Most people aren’t handling six company mergers.”
I rolled my eyes.
“There it is again.”
He looked at me.
“What?”
“That robot billionaire personality.”
A small shadow of amusement crossed his face.
“You’re annoyed tonight.”
“You’ve ignored me for three days.”
“I’ve been working.”
“You’ve been hiding.”
That made him pause.
Just for a second, but I noticed.
Damian slowly set his tablet on the table.
The movement made my pulse jump.
“I am sitting right here, Aurora.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re here.”
His eyes locked onto mine.
Too intense.
Too steady.
“You should stop analyzing me,” he said quietly.
“Maybe you should stop acting suspicious.”
A heavy silence filled the dining room.
Even the staff nearby suddenly found something else to do.
Good choice.
The tension between us felt sharp enough to cut.
He leaned back, studying me.
“You enjoy provoking people.”
“You only notice when it’s you.”
His jaw tightened.
Score.
I picked up my glass, pretending my heart wasn’t beating too fast.
Then Damian spoke again.
“Did your father call today?”
The subject change annoyed me.
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“That he misses me.”
Something unreadable crossed Damian’s face.
“He also asked if you’re taking care of me.”
“And?”
I shrugged.
“I told him you’re doing your best.”
His eyes narrowed.
“My best?”
“You’re feeding me. That’s something.”
A quiet laugh escaped him before he could stop it.
The sound surprised us both.
I smiled.
“There you are.”
His expression changed immediately.
The walls went back up.
Fast.
I hated it.
“Do you ever stop controlling yourself?” I asked softly.
The question hit him.
I saw it.
His gaze darkened.
“Aurora.”
“No, seriously. You act like emotions are illegal.”
“Some emotions should be controlled.”
I couldn’t miss the meaning behind that.
Heat rushed to my cheeks.
We didn’t look away.
The air felt too warm.
Then his phone rang, shattering the moment.
Damian looked away and answered it.
“Yes.”
His voice was cold business again.
I hated how disappointed I felt.
I pushed my chair back and stood up.
Damian looked at me while still on the phone.
“Where are you going?”
I raised an eyebrow.
“I thought you were busy.”
His eyes stayed on me for a second too long.
“I’ll call you back,” he said into the phone, then ended the call.
My stomach flipped.
“You hung up?”
“You were leaving.”
The simple answer affected me more than it should have.
I crossed my arms.
“Maybe I wanted space.”
Damian stood slowly.
Suddenly, I regretted every teasing word.
This version of Damian was dangerous.
Calm, focused, intense.
He walked toward me while loosening the cuffs of his shirt.
My breathing turned uneven.
“You keep testing me,” he said quietly.
“Maybe you deserve it.”
Big mistake.
He stopped right in front of me.
Way too close.
I could smell the whiskey on his breath mixed with his cologne.
His gray eyes held mine.
“You think this is a game?” he asked softly.
I swallowed hard.
“No.”
“Then stop acting like it.”
My heart pounded.
Deep down, I knew what he meant.
This attraction wasn’t harmless anymore.
And the terrifying part was that neither of us wanted it to stop.
I tried to step around him.
Damian’s hand touched my wrist.
Not rough, not aggressive, but firm enough to stop me.
My whole body reacted to that touch.
So did his.
I saw it in his tight jaw.
Slowly, his eyes dropped to where his fingers held my skin, then back to my face.
The silence was unbearable.
“Aurora,” he said, “you need to understand something.”
His thumb brushed against my wrist.
Maybe not by accident.
My pulse jumped.
“Making what difficult?”
For one dangerous second, it looked like he might answer.
His grip tightened.
Then footsteps sounded in the hallway.
Damian let go immediately.
The moment vanished.
A housekeeper entered with flowers for the room.
Neither of us moved, but the tension remained, heavy and burning.
Damian stepped back.
His face was unreadable again.
“I have work to finish,” he said calmly.
Like nothing happened.
Like his hand hadn’t just been wrapped around my wrist.
Like he hadn’t looked at me like a starving man seconds ago.
Anger and frustration flared inside me.
“You always do that,” I snapped.
His eyes narrowed.
“Do what?”
“Run away.”
“I’m not running.”
“You’re terrified of your own feelings.”
The words were out before I could stop them.
Dead silence.
Even the housekeeper left quickly.
Damian stared at me.
Then, very slowly, he stepped closer.
Just one step.
It destroyed the distance between us.
“You think you know what I feel?” he asked.
“I think you’re trying very hard not to feel anything.”
A muscle moved in his jaw.
His voice dropped.
“You aren’t a little girl anymore, Aurora.”
My breath caught.
His eyes burned into mine.
“That is the problem.”
The same words from the kitchen, but darker, more honest.
The air between us was electric.
Damian looked like he was fighting himself.
And losing.
Then, he stepped back.
Control returned to his face, piece by piece.
“I’m going to my office,” he said.
I hated how normal his voice sounded.
Before I could answer, he turned and walked away.
I stood alone in the dining room, my hands shaking and my heart racing.
But one truth was impossible to ignore: Damian Cross wanted me.
And his self-control was going to break.
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