In the narrow kitchen where legal papers cover every surface, Vincent's marriage to Tessa exists only to shield their inheritance. His broad frame fills the space between counter and doorway as his hand settles at the small of her back.
She leans into the touch instead of stepping away, her body yielding where it should resist. Each firm correction with his palm is meant to enforce the boundaries of their arrangement, yet the discipline draws them closer with every strike of his hand against her. How long can they keep this professional when his palm leaves its mark and she finds herself craving the next correction?
