Archie’s POV
The kitchen was so quiet I could hear the hum of the sub-zero refrigerator and the heavy, ragged sound of my own breathing.
Because sometimes I think you want me too.
The sentence hung between us like a lit fuse. Lincoln stood less than a foot away, his dark eyes searching mine with ruthless, unflinching honesty. He wasn't smiling. He wasn't teasing. He was offering me the truth on a silver platter, waiting to see if I had the courage to take it or if I would smash it against the floor.
Every defense mechanism I had built over thirty-four years screamed at me to back away.
I froze, the air seizing in my throat. My spine went rigid, my hands curling into tight fists at my sides as I fought to summon the impassive, untouchable mask of Archie Samuel, the executive.
"Lincoln
