The hours dragged like an eternity, every tick of the clock pulling her closer to something she wasn’t sure she was ready for—but couldn’t stop craving. By the time she stood outside his door, Hannah’s palms were damp, her heart pounding so hard it echoed in her ears.

The door opened before she could knock twice. Michael stood there, casual in a black T-shirt and dark jeans, but somehow more imposing than ever. Without his office armor—no tie, no pressed jacket—he seemed raw, ...