Page 147 of The Silver Fox Brother

Her lips press together, her cheeks flushing as she meets my gaze.

“Well, what did you expect?” she snaps back in protest, her tone soft but firm at the same time.

Her eyes dart to the side before coming back to mine, and she crosses her arms defensively.

“You don’t understand,” she starts, her voice barely above a whisper.

“So explain it,” I say, moving closer until her back brushes the wall. My tone softens, but the intensity remains, my need for answers—and for her—pressing down on me.

“You know as well as I do, that it’s a conflict of interest,” she says, her voice trembling.

“You’re my client—”

“–Stop,” I interrupt, as I step even closer, my hand bracing against the wall beside her. Her scent fills my lungs, and I can feel the heat radiating off her skin.

“Knox…” she whispers, her voice strained.

Her cheeks are crimson now, her breathing uneven, but there’s no protest in her tone. Just hesitation. Just want.

“I’m not going to do this here,” she says suddenly, pulling back enough to speak but not enough to escape my presence. Her eyes flick to the side, scanning the corridor.

“Then lead the way,” I say, my voice low and gravelly.

She turns, walking briskly toward the coat room at the end of the hallway. Her steps quicken, as if she’s trying to outpace her own emotions. I follow, my gaze locked on the curve of her back, the sway of her hips, the tension radiating from her entire body.

She stops just outside the coat room, glancing around before stepping inside. It’s dimly lit, the faint hum of voices from the banquet distant now.

I step in after her, closing the door behind us with a soft click. The air shifts immediately, the charged energy between us now amplified by the confined space. I take a deliberate step closer, the polished floor muffling my movements. My pulse hammers in my chest, each beat loud and insistent.

“You’re not affected by all of this? I murmur, my voice low and steady, but carrying a weight I can’t conceal.

She turns slowly, her lips parting as she exhales sharply. Her eyes meet mine, wide and uncertain, her composure fraying at the edges.

“Knox, I…” she begins, but falters when I close the distance between us in one smooth motion.

“...I haven’t been avoiding—”

“—Then what is it?” I interrupt, my voice sharper this time, though still just above a whisper. The proximity between us leaves no room for pretense.

She exhales shakily, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she searches for a response. The tension is unbearable, like a live wire humming between us.

“It’s not that simple,” she whispers, her voice trembling.

“You’re my client… and Rowan’s brother. I was trying to—”

“And?” I challenge, leaning in just enough that her perfume fills my lungs. The warmth of her body so close to mine pulls me tighter into this magnetic vortex I can’t escape.

“You wanted to keep things professional? Is that it?” My tone carries a bitter edge, the words tasting like ash on my tongue.

Her lips press together, a faint flush creeping up her neck.

“Yes,” she admits, barely audible, her gaze darting to the side.

“Fuck that,” I say, my voice lowering. My hand moves before I can stop it, my thumb brushing against her cheek.Her skin is soft and warm, and her breath catches at the contact.

She freezes, her lashes fluttering as she glances up at me. Her lips tremble, the faintest quiver betraying her resolve.

“Knox…” she whispers, her tone shaky, uncertain.