Rose POV

The soft hum of fluorescent lights above did little to distract me from the chaos brewing in my chest.

I tapped away at my keyboard in a half-hearted rhythm, pretending to be engaged in the spreadsheet on my screen. But my mind? My mind was miles away—stuck in the depths of hazel eyes, calloused fingers, and the way my name had rolled off Luther’s lips like a low curse and a silent prayer.

“Miss Daniels,” my manager, Victor, called out, standing by my cubicle with a stack of ...