Chapter 8 Game Of Fire

• Sienna sensed it the moment she stepped into his office.
• The air felt different. Heavier.
• Adrian Blackwood wasn’t behind his desk, as he usually was. Instead, he stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows, one hand in his pocket, the other loosely gripping a glass of whiskey. Sunlight bled through the glass, casting sharp shadows over the crisp planes of his white dress shirt. The top two buttons were undone, revealing a sliver of his sculpted chest, the firm muscle and golden skin teasing at something undeniably male, undeniably powerful.
• He turned when she entered, his dark gaze sweeping over her like a slow burn.
• “Miss Locke.”
• Her name rolled off his tongue like a promise.
• Sienna exhaled through her nose, determined not to let her nerves show. He was just a man.
• A dangerous, powerful man. But a man nonetheless.
• “You asked for me?” Her voice was crisp, professional.
• Adrian took a slow sip of his drink before setting it down on the desk. His movements were deliberate, calculated, as if everything he did was part of some unspoken strategy.
• Then he strode toward her.
• Not rushed, not hesitant—just confident, certain.
• Sienna stayed rooted in place, refusing to step back, even as he stopped a breath away from her. Close enough that she could smell his cologne—woodsy, spiced, dark. Close enough that his heat licked at her skin.
• His gaze traced her face, lingering at her lips before flicking back up.
• “Tell me something,” he murmured.
• Sienna lifted her chin. “That depends.”
• Adrian’s lips twitched, but his amusement didn’t quite reach his eyes. Those stayed sharp, assessing.
• “Are you always this tense around me?”
• Sienna inhaled, willing herself not to react. “I’m not tense.”
• His dark brows lifted, as if daring her to say that again.
• And then, he moved.
• Slowly, deliberately, he lifted a hand—fingertips just barely grazing the cuff of her blouse. A whisper of contact.
• Not enough to be a touch. But enough to feel like a promise.
• Sienna’s pulse hammered, though she refused to let it show.
• Adrian exhaled, and she caught the subtle movement of his throat.
• He was tall, and standing this close, she could see the tension in his forearm, the way the veins in his hand shifted as his fingers flexed.
• Masculine, controlled, restrained.
• “You left the gala early,” he murmured.
• Sienna’s breath caught.
• Adrian leaned in, just a fraction, his voice dipping lower.
• “Was it because of me?”
• Sienna steadied herself. “I had other matters to attend to.”
• A half-smirk. “Liar.”
• The word curled through the air between them, thick and heavy.
• She stiffened, but he only continued, his fingers brushing along the fabric of her sleeve—soft, teasing, testing.
• “I wonder,” Adrian murmured, tilting his head, “what would happen if you stopped fighting me.”
• Sienna’s throat dried. “Fighting you?”
• A quiet chuckle. Dark. Dangerous.
• Adrian’s gaze flickered to her mouth.
• And then, he moved closer.
• Not touching, not yet—but his lips hovered a breath away from her jaw. Close enough that she could feel the warmth of them, close enough that if she moved even a fraction, they’d meet.
• Sienna swallowed.
• “I think,” Adrian said softly, his breath tracing fire along her skin, “you want to see what it would feel like.”
• Her lungs constricted.
• She should push him away. Should remind him that she worked for him, that this was inappropriate.
• But she didn’t move.
• And Adrian knew it.
• His knuckles brushed the inside of her wrist—light, lingering, skimming the delicate pulse point.
• Slowly, his hand traveled upward, tracing the barest hint of pressure along the inside of her forearm. A touch that shouldn’t have felt so intimate, so all-consuming—but it did.
• Sienna’s stomach tightened.
• Adrian exhaled, his chest shifting slightly—broad, solid, commanding.
• And then, he dipped his head, his lips ghosting over the line of her jaw.
• Not a kiss.
• But not nothing, either.
• Sienna’s fingers curled into fists at her sides.
• He was testing her.
• Toying with the limits of her resistance.
• She turned her head slightly, forcing space between them.
• “You enjoy pushing boundaries, don’t you?” she said, her voice tight.
• Adrian smiled—slow, wicked, victorious.
• “Only when they beg to be tested.”
• Her stomach twisted, heat coiling dangerously in her lower abdomen.
• She couldn’t do this.
• Couldn’t let herself fall into whatever trap he was setting.
• Sienna stepped back, severing the contact.
• Adrian didn’t move to stop her.
• But the look in his eyes—sharp, knowing, far too confident—told her he didn’t need to.
• She could still feel him on her skin.
• Still feel the ghost of his breath, the weight of his presence.
• Adrian smiled slightly.
• “You’ll give in eventually.”
• Sienna exhaled slowly, steadying herself.
• “Don’t hold your breath.”
• But the words felt weaker than she intended.
• And by the way Adrian’s smirk deepened, he knew it too.