His gaze burned into her exposed waist, as if wanting to sear a hole right through her. Phoebe noticed his intense, almost invasive stare fixed on her midriff and quickly looked down. Her waist was still showing.

In a rush to undo the knot, the more she fumbled, the tighter it became, her cheeks flushed with urgency. Lifting her gaze, her eyes-damp and frantic-briefly met Theodore’s before she bore down on the relentless knot.

Theodore had intended to keep to himself, but the distress in her eyes set something alight within him. Closing the distance, he gently grasped Phoebe’s hands to still them.

Phoebe shivered at his touch, and as she looked up, the light above bathed them, illuminating her naturally fair complexion even more. Her lips were a striking red against her fair skin, her eyes-deep and dark like rich grapes-held his with a trembling vibrancy.

Theodore felt a nearly imperceptible curl of his fingers, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple betraying his control, his entire body seemed to pulse with restrained energy. It was wholly inappropriate, but he was consumed by the urge to pin her against the elevator’s metallic wall and kiss her fiercely.

‘She’s tempting me!’ Theodore thought.

Phoebe caught the danger in his gaze and her eyes danced nervously before resting on the alluring movement of his throat. Her first unconscious thought was… he was damn sexy!

She felt disoriented, her recent interactions with Theodore disrupting her inner calm. Each look they shared, every unintentional brush of skin stirred something within her a resistance on the surface but a deep yearning beneath. His cool, firm hand on her waist now was both tormenting and sweet, urging her to resist and yet rendering her immobile.

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open to reveal a colleague about to enter. The scene inside stopped her mid-step, her hand flying to her mouth in shock.

“Mr. Reynolds, Miss Ziegler.”

Theodore cast a glance at the employee standing outside, smoothly retracting his hand. As he prepared to withdraw it completely, his thumb made one final, tender sweep across her waist. Phoebe’s face blazed with heat.

Without caring if they’d reached the 17th floor or not, she plunged out, feeling the searing trail where his thumb had grazed her as if it were ablaze.

She nodded at the employee and moved on without looking back.

Theodore remained in the elevator, rubbing his fingertips as if to savor the touch. To the employee still outside, he queried, “Which floor?” Clearly intimidated, she stammered, “You go ahead, I’m heading down.”

She wouldn’t dare share an elevator with the formidable Mr. Reynolds, fearful of being frozen by the chill that seemed to emanate from him.

Without another word, Theodore pressed the button to close the doors and the elevator resumed its ascent.

Phoebe entered the stairwell, leaning against the wall, catching her breath, the lingering burn on her waist unforgettable. She touched the spot only to find no sensation there at all.

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