Two bodies pressed close, friction igniting between them.

To say Selena felt nothing would have been a lie.

But she fundamentally rejected Zavier. Fishing for an excuse, she said, "The banquet starts at seven. Isn’t that project important to you? Wouldn’t want to be late, would you?"

At her words, Zavier relented slightly, loosening his hold.

He cast a glance at her reflection in the mirror, a soft, sardonic chuckle escaping. "Mrs. ...