The elevator ride up felt endless.

Andrea kept her arms folded tight across her chest and her eyes fixed on the polished doors, but her mind refused to cooperate. She could still feel the exact pressure of Henry’s thumb against her jaw in the corridor three hours earlier, which felt deliberate and warm.

The way her breath had caught before she could stop it. The way he had noticed but said nothing, just watched her with those dark eyes like he had already seen every crack she was trying to hide.

She pressed her arms tighter and told herself she was fine. She had walked back into that meeting room,...