Hours later, just as I was gathering my things to depart for the evening, the soft, unmistakable cadence of costly Italian loafers clacking against the tile made me freeze

"I'll call you back, Henshaw." The deep timbre of Max's voice was unmistakable.

I glanced up sharply to find him leaning against the doorframe of my office, phone still pressed to his ear as he gazed at me with an inscrutable expression. There was a faint crease between his brows, a tautness around his eyes that hinted at an inner turmoil simmering beneath that impeccable veneer.

My breath caught as he ended the call and slowly crossed the room toward me. The man moved with an inherent grace, like a prowling panther sizing up its prey. My mouth went dry, nerves skating beneath my skin as he came to loom over me.

"Max, what..." The words dried up in my throat as he gently cupped my face, his callused palms cradling me like I was something infinitely precious.

"You asked me before to show you. I want to prove to you that this isn't just another 'dalliance'," he murmured in that devastatingly sexy rasp, his warm breath fanning over my skin and sending a shiver racing through me. "Let me be clear...this is anything but."

Any coherent response I might have mustered was immediately obliterated as Max's mouth slanted confidently over mine. The kiss started soft, almost worshipful, but quickly banked into a searing exploration filled with restrained hunger.

A whimper formed in the back of my throat as Max's tongue slipped past the seam of my lips, tasting and teasing until I was practically boneless in his arms. Heat licked through my veins, stoking into an inferno of wanting that threatened to consume me whole.

"Max..." I gasped against the fevered crush of his mouth. "Anyone could see..."

He shook his head, refusing to relinquish his ardent attention as his fingers slipped beneath my chin to tilt my head into the perfect angle for his devastating possession. "Then they'll know you're mine," he growled with a snap of his hips, pinning me harder against the desk.

The raw, carnal undercurrent in his gravelly vow made me weak in the knees. Oh, how I burned to belong to this man, rationality be damned.

His phone trilled again, the shrill tone serving as a brutal cold shower of reality. Max stiffened, his forehead dropping to rest against mine as he blew out a harsh breath of undisguised frustration, glaring at the offending device as if it had personally betrayed him.

"I'm sorry, Charlotte," he bit out between clenched teeth. "This is important, I have to take it," he rasped, his eyes holding a spark of regretful apology.

Dragging his lips across my cheek in one final, searing caress, he sealed our heated moment with the barest brush of a kiss against my forehead. Then he raked a shaky hand through his tousled chestnut locks as he answered the call with a curt, "Pemberton."

I could only gape after him as he strode from my office, my limbs quaking with a bewildering blend of exhilaration, confusion, and soul-deep yearning. Whatever had been awakened between us, it was clear the shift had been irreversible.

The next morning, there was no sign of Max at the office. An impersonal memo informed us he would be unreachable all week, attending to urgent business matters. Each day that trickled by without a whisper from him twisted the knot of doubt deeper in my gut.

By Friday night, I found myself drifting aimlessly through the city streets, my steps eventually carrying me to the gleaming tower where Max's penthouse resided. I stared up at the imposing facade, willing myself to march inside and demand answers. My finger hovered over the call button, but I couldn't make myself ring.

Just as I was turning away in defeat, the elevator doors parted with a whoosh of air. Max's voice filtered out, rich and commanding as always. "Who's there?"

My heart stuttered in my chest, but I remained frozen, hidden from view. The polished doors slid shut again with a soft thunk, sealing Max off once more.

When Monday rolled around, any hopes I clung to for resolution withered under Max's icy demeanor. He was back in the office bright and early, all traced of vulnerability exquisitely concealed behind his usual forbidding mask.

I holed up in my office, determined not to be the one who broke first. No matter how desperately my heart ached to confront him, I refused to give Max the satisfaction of knowing how rattled I had become in his absence.

The faint ding of the elevator jolted me from my brooding trance. I blinked slowly, my eyes refocusing on the contract laid out before me on the desk. How long had I been staring blankly at the same paragraph?

"Excusez-moi, mademoiselle." An unmistakably accented voice sliced through the quiet stillness of my office. "Might you be so kind as to point me in ze direction of Maximilian Pemberton's office?"

I glanced up to find Jean-Pierre Duvall standing in my doorway, looking impeccably styled as always in an exquisitely tailored navy suit. His tousled chestnut hair and roguish smile were as disarmingly attractive as I remembered.

"Jean-Pierre?" I frowned, rising from my chair. "What are you doing here?"

"Ah, but of course you would remember me, chérie." He flashed me a shameless wink as he strode further into the room. "I have been brought in to assist wiz zat very...delicate international acquisition your M. Pemberton has been working on as of late."

My stomach twisted at the mention of Max's name. I couldn't prevent my gaze from straying toward the corner office that had remained infuriatingly silent all day.

Jean-Pierre followed my line of sight, his expression morphing into one of amused understanding. "Ahh...I see ze great Pemberton has made his move at last, non? And judging by your soured mood, I would venture it did not go quite as you had hoped?"

"I...that's none of your business," I muttered lamely, turning away to organize the stack of files on my desk into a neat pile. Anything to avoid those knowing eyes that seemed capable of prying out every secret left unspoken between Max and myself.

"Ma chérie..." Jean-Pierre's voice took on a softer, more genuine tone as he moved to stand opposite me. His fingers stilled my fidgeting hands with a light touch. "We may have only been acquainted for ze briefest of times, but any fool can see zat ze tension between you and zis man is...quite potent, non?"

My gaze jerked up to meet his, my cheeks flushing hotly. The open concern etched across his striking features caught me off guard.

"It's...complicated," I hedged at last, pulling my hands free from his grasp.

An undecipherable look flickered across Jean-Pierre's face before his lips curved into a disarming smile once more. "Of course it is, ma chérie. When has affairs of ze heart ever been simple?"

Heat prickled along the back of my neck as my mind instantly conjured images of the last encounter Max and I had shared - his muscular frame caging me against my desk wall, his firm mouth slanting hungrily over mine in a searing kiss that had threatened to incinerate me on the spot. Complicated didn't even begin to cover it.

Jean-Pierre seemed to read my tortured expression loud and clear. "Ah, but do not despair," he murmured consolingly. "I am not such a cad as to truly pursue another man's...conquest, you understand?"

His use of the last word sent a frisson of trepidation through me. Conquest. Yes, there could be no denying that in whatever game Max and I had become inexplicably entangled, he clearly held all the power. And I was merely a powerless pawn, caught up in the intoxicating spell of his making.

Jean-Pierre carried on blithely. "But, should zis man of yours prove unworthy of such a rare jewel...you must know I would be only too happy to offer my services as a loyal suitor, non?" He punctuated the blatant flirtation with an exaggerated wink.

I could only gape at him in stunned silence. The raw vulnerability in his words pierced the veil of confusion shrouding me. Of course the dashing Frenchman would make his interest clear at a time like this. He had always been shameless in his pursuit.

But as charming as Jean-Pierre was, my battered heart still belonged to Max, for better or worse. I just had to decide if waiting for him to resurface from his self-imposed isolation was a battle I was willing to wage.

Behind us, the door to Max's office remained firmly shut, as immovable and unyielding as the man himself. Whatever had sparked between us...I could only hope it wasn't already extinguished.