Clara's voice was polite.
My heart punched against my ribs like it wanted to escape. Adrien didn't flinch. His hand still remained firm on my back, his mouth still too close to mine, the heat of his breath brushing my cheek like nothing had happened. Like she hadn't just walked in.
I started to shift, trying to slide off his lap—because what in God's name was I doing still sitting there?
His arm didn't budge.
"Adrien," I whispered, just under my breath.
"Don't," he said quietly.
His eyes finally opened, heavy-lidded and calm—too calm—and met Clara's.
"Miss Langford. Is there something you need?"
She blinked. "I was told to bring the mock-up files to your office."
He nodded once. "Leave them on the table."
I was frozen. Half-leaning away, my hands still on his shoulders, every nerve in my body on high alert.
Clara didn't move.
