—Amira—

The whole room floated away, desire blooming like a forbidden flower inside me.

When had he flown back? He was supposed to be in a meeting with the president.

“Mr. Rivera?” Joyce squealed and scooted to his side. “I-I thought you wouldn't make it.”

“It's simple courtesy to honor an invitation,” he replied, eyes still locked on me. Before he finally looked at her. “Happy birthday.”

She grinned and scratched her ear. “Thank you, sir.”

At the moment he looked away, ...