His Dangerous Desire

The first rule: Never let the line blur.

The second rule: Never kiss your employer.

Jace had already broken both by sunrise.

The sun poured in through the penthouse windows, a golden warmth illuminating the quiet chaos of the previous night. Adrian stood near the floor-to-ceiling glass, shirtless, a glass of scotch in one hand, the other resting loosely in the pocket of his slacks. Jace watched him from the bed, his body still humming with the memory of Adrian’s mouth, Adrian’s touch, Adrian’s control.

Neither of them spoke for a long time. Silence wasn’t awkward between them—it was charged.

Adrian finally broke it. “You’re not a good bodyguard.”

Jace propped himself up on an elbow, still naked beneath the silk sheets. “Because I kissed you back?”

“No.” Adrian’s voice was calm, cold even. “Because you let it happen.”

A muscle ticked in Jace’s jaw. “You started it.”

Adrian turned then, slow and dangerous. “And you didn’t stop it. Tell me, Jace—do you think that’s wise?”

“No,” Jace said honestly, “but I don’t regret it.”

Adrian crossed the room in three long strides, stopping beside the bed. He set his glass down on the nightstand, his gaze locked on Jace’s face like a weapon. “You’re playing with fire.”

“Maybe I like the burn.”

Adrian’s lips curved into a smirk, but there was no humor in it—only warning. “You’re not ready for what I can give you. Or take from you.”

Jace leaned forward, unashamed, defiant. “Then try me.”

Adrian’s hand snapped out, gripping Jace’s jaw—not rough, not gentle either. Just firm enough to remind him who was in control. He studied him for a beat too long. “You really don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“You think I’m scared of you?”

“I know you should be.”

They stayed like that for a beat. Breathing the same air. Feeding off each other’s tension.

Adrian released him suddenly and stepped back. “Get dressed. We’re leaving in ten.”

Jace frowned. “Leaving where?”

“To meet my father’s lawyer.” Adrian didn’t look at him. “He wants to discuss the will.”

—

The ride down in the private elevator was silent, but the air between them thrummed with unfinished business. Adrian stood tall in a tailored charcoal suit, every inch the powerful heir. Jace, in a dark turtleneck and jacket, looked every bit the dangerous shadow at his side.

When they arrived at the law firm downtown, Adrian’s demeanor shifted into something colder, sharper. It wasn’t until they stepped into the office that Jace realized why.

A tall, elegant man stood from behind the desk, his silver hair slicked back, sharp eyes calculating behind thin glasses. “Adrian. And… this must be the infamous bodyguard.”

Jace didn’t like his tone.

Adrian’s reply was smooth, rehearsed. “Mr. Cavill, this is Jace Moreno. He’s not here for your entertainment.”

“Pity,” Cavill drawled, then handed Adrian a sealed envelope. “This came by private courier this morning. Your father’s final addendum.”

Adrian opened it, read the first few lines, and then—froze.

Jace saw it. Just a flicker. But it was there.

“What is it?” he asked quietly.

Adrian didn’t answer. He reread the document, slower this time. Then he looked at Cavill. “This is real?”

“I verified it myself,” the lawyer said. “Your father left instructions for a secondary heir. In case you… refused to take the reins.”

Adrian’s voice was a razor. “And who is this ‘secondary’?”

Cavill lifted a brow. “Your half-brother.”

The room went still.

Jace stepped closer instinctively, alert. “You have a brother?”

“No.” Adrian’s voice was dark. Final.

But Cavill didn’t back down. “Apparently, you do. And he’s on his way here. You’ll be meeting him in less than an hour.”

Adrian’s eyes narrowed. “This is a setup.”

“Possibly,” Cavill said, unfazed. “But it’s legal. And binding. If he chooses to contest your claim, it could become… messy.”

Jace leaned closer to Adrian, lowering his voice. “Want me to vet him before he walks in?”

Adrian didn’t answer right away. He stared at the letter again, then at the city skyline behind the glass. “No,” he said finally. “Let him come.”

—

Back in the car, Adrian said nothing. Jace didn’t push.

He’d seen the shift in his employer—Adrian had gone from seductive and smug to cold and calculated. But beneath the mask, Jace could feel something else: uncertainty. Maybe even fear.

Jace watched him for a moment, then said, “You okay?”

Adrian looked at him. “You’re not here to ask questions.”

“I’m not just your bodyguard,” Jace said. “Not anymore.”

The car slowed. Adrian leaned in, close enough that their knees touched. “You really want to be involved in this?”

“I already am.”

Adrian’s voice dropped. “Then there are more rules.”

“Give them to me.”

“One,” Adrian said, fingers brushing against Jace’s thigh, “don’t ever lie to me.”

“I don’t.”

“Two,” Adrian’s voice deepened, “don’t fall in love with me.”

Jace held his gaze, unflinching. “Too late.”

A ghost of a smile touched Adrian’s lips—almost sad. Almost dangerous.

And then the car pulled up to the penthouse again, and the moment ended.

For now.