Richard’s jaw hardened, the sharp edge of his cheekbone tightening against her cheek. Roxanne remained entirely frozen, her front securely locked against the solid, intoxicating warmth of his tall frame.

Somewhere in the frantic, unraveled corners of her mind, she prayed he would ignore the intrusion of the intercom, that he would finally smash the distance between them and give her the answers she was drowning for.

But before she could finish the desperate thought, he pulled back.

Richard took a single step away, his dark eyes burning into hers with a heavy, magnetic intensity. "Don’t move," he murmured, his baritone dropping low, fiercely intimate. "I’m going to dismiss whoever that is."

Roxanne swallowed hard against the sudden dryness in her throat, her chest heaving as she watched his towering silhouette retreat toward the glass desk.

Richard slammed his palm down on the intercom button. "Yes?" he growled. The raw irritation bleeding into his tone was a blatant signal that he wanted this private moment just as desperately as her body did.

"Mr. Vance, the board has gathered in the main conference room, and the senior partners are all waiting for you," a sharp, professional female voice cut through the line, shattering the humid quiet of the office.

Richard’s jaw clenched into stone. He cast a sharp glance down at the platinum watch on his wrist, and from where Roxanne stood by the door, she could visibly see the heavy, warring conflict tightening his broad shoulders.

But the moment his back turned to address the speaker, she didn’t wait to find out who would win his internal battle. Her fingers blindly found the heavy brass deadbolt. Click.

Richard snapped his head up, his eyes widening as he realized what she was doing. "Roxanne, wait—" But she was already slipping out into the corridor like a ghost. By the time he reached the corridor, the elevator doors were already closing.

Roxanne kept her eyes locked on him as the sleek steel doors slid together. He was standing at the end of the corridor, his towering frame framed perfectly by the light of his office, his unblinking gaze tracking her escape.

Her pulse refused to settle, not because he had touched her. Because he had been right.

"You willingly adapted to being invisible." The words echoed through her head.

The moment the doors fully closed and locked him out, Roxanne released a ragged, shaking breath she had no idea she had been holding.

Her fingers drifted up her neck, her thumb brushing the sensitive skin beneath her ear where his lips had just been. Damn him. Not only had he gotten under her skin. He had gotten into her head.

She closed her eyes, a soft sigh parting her lips. Instinctively, she pressed her thighs tightly together, her brows creasing in agonizing torment as her body throbbed with a residual, aching hunger for him.

"You are going to ruin me," she breathed, her voice barely a whisper in the empty car.

DING. The elevator bell shattered the spell, and the doors swooshed open into the subterranean parking garage.

Roxanne exhaled a sharp breath to steady her shaking knees, smoothing down the front of her dress before stepping out onto the cold concrete. Her steps were still a bit unsteady, her hand lingering at the back of her neck where the electric remnant of Richard’s touch seemed to bloom across her skin.

But the moment she approached her parked Lexus, she stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes stretching wide with an immediate spike of adrenaline. Leaning heavily against the driver’s side door, his arms crossed over his chest, was Christian.

"What the hell is he doing here?" she murmured through clenched teeth, her voice barely carrying in the garage.

Steeling her spine, she forced herself to keep walking. Christian turned his head at the sound of her approaching footsteps, straightening up instantly as his features knotted into a deeply suspicious scowl.

"What are you doing here, Chris?" Roxanne asked coldly, ignoring his defensive posture as she stepped up to the driver’s side.

"I should be the person asking you what the hell took you so long," Christian countered, his voice echoing sharply against the concrete pillars. He stepped closer, his eyes scanning her face. "You look flushed. What happened in there?"

"Oh, come off it, Christian!" Roxanne cut him off, her voice dripping with a newfound, icy contempt that caught him completely off guard. "I’m leaving." She aggressively tapped the key fob, the locks clicking open.

But just as she yanked the car door open, Christian lunged forward, slamming the heavy door shut with a loud, metallic bang and trapping her between his frame and the vehicle.

Roxanne refused to meet his gaze. She kept her eyes locked firmly on the door handle, her jaw tight. "Get out of my way, Chris. I mean it."

"No way," Christian shot back, his voice rising with desperation. "Not until you tell me exactly why Richard, the most ruthless billionaire CEO, wanted a private meeting with my wife, and what the two of you could possibly have in common."

"I don’t owe you an answer," Roxanne shot back, still keeping her eyes averted, terrified that the sheer guilt and illicit pleasure burning in her eyes would give everything away.

"Of course you damn well do!" Christian hissed, stepping deeper into her space. "You are my wife! If the most powerful man in this city demands a private meeting with you, I need to know exactly what was said behind that door. Now tell me, why did Richard ask to see you?"

Roxanne slowly lifted her chin. She let her gaze rise, her eyes narrowing into slits as she looked her husband dead in the face.

"I really don’t think you want the answer to the question you are asking, Christian," she said, her voice dropping into a low, cryptic purr that sent a visible tremor of doubt through his chest.

Christian’s face twisted into a mask of confusion. "And what the hell is that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

Roxanne simply looked at him. And without another word, she used her shoulder to forcefully shove him out of her path. The sudden, unyielding strength in her movement shocked him enough that he stumbled back a step.

Roxanne slid into the driver’s seat, slammed the door, and locked it in one fluid motion. Her heart hammered a chaotic rhythm as she cranked the engine, threw the car into reverse, and tore out of the parking space, the tires screeching against the smooth concrete.

As she sped toward the garage exit, her eyes drifted up to the rearview mirror.

Christian was left standing alone in the exhaust smoke, an expression of absolute shock written across his face. Roxanne looked at his receding figure, and her brows furrowed.

She didn’t care anymore.

He had spent years overlooking her. But Richard? He didn’t.