YOU’RE TOO HANDSOME TO BE ALONE

The ride back to the penthouse was silent. The adrenaline from the confrontation with Mark was still surging through my veins. When we stepped into the private elevator, the doors sliding shut to seal us in the mahogany-paneled box, the tension finally snapped.

"He shouldn't have been able to get near you," Adrian growled, running a hand through his perfectly styled dark hair, destroying it. "Marcus is fired."

"Don't fire Marcus. He couldn't have known Mark was working with the catering staff," I said, stepping toward him. "Adrian, you protected me. You always protect me."

He looked at me, his chest heaving under his tailored tuxedo. The mask of the icy billionaire was completely gone, leaving only the raw, intense man underneath.

"It's my job," he muttered, his voice tight. "It's the contract."

"Is it?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I took another step, eliminating the space between us. I was tired of pretending. I was tired of the contract.

Adrian looked down at me, his gaze dropping to my lips. The air in the elevator grew impossibly hot.

"Lily," he warned, a low, guttural sound. "Don't."

"Don't what?" I challenged, looking up through my lashes.

With a frustrated groan, Adrian abandoned all restraint. His hands crashed down on my hips, pulling me flush against his hard body. His mouth came down on mine with a crushing, desperate hunger. The kiss wasn't a calculated PR move; it was a devastating collision of hidden desires. My hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as I parted my lips, letting him taste me deeply.

He backed me against the wall of the elevator, his body pressing into mine, his kisses turning frantic, consuming. Every touch was electric, burning away the boundaries we had carefully drawn around ourselves.

When the elevator chimed, signaling our arrival at the penthouse, we broke apart, both of us breathing heavily, lips swollen, eyes dilated.