Gosh.

His chest is solid beneath my palms. This man is a wall of heat, wrapped in fine tailoring and a silk waistcoat.

“Are you sure?” he murmurs.

“Uh.” My laugh is strangled. “Yes.”

When our lips meet, my brain goes blissfully blank. Everything fades away: the meetings I have scheduled; the many reasons that this is a bad idea; the full laundry hamper waiting for me in my apartment and the groceries I forgot to pick up yesterday. I’m so used to wandering around with my brain overheated, my mind full of open tabs, and finally, finally, Galen has forced a shutdown.

“Mmph.”

He kisses me harder. I kiss him back.

The desk creaks as I wrap my legs around his trim waist.

“Kara,” Galen groans, and his breathing is as ragged as a cross-country runner’s. “Fuck. Princess.”

Ha. Um, princess? No one has ever called me something like that before, not even when I was a little girl. I was never the glitzy, special girl; never the center of attention. I was the plain Jane with a battered library card and a shy scowl.

Heat slides down my spine like dripping treacle, and Galen’s hands follow, arching my body against him. Our tongues slide together. I’m tasting him. Tasting my boss.

“Princess,” he rumbles again.

His breath is minty. Did he slip a peppermint on the drive?

You know, I don’t mind his nickname for me.

“This is complicated.” Galen presses the words into my neck, searing a trail across my overheated flesh. Strong hands roam up and down my back, and it’s like he can’t stop touching me. Mapping his territory. “I know that. Whatever you want from me, that’s how this will go. Okay, Kara?”

I nod.

Whatever I want?

I want Galen Onasis on his knees in front of this desk, burying his face between my legs. I want to pull on his salt and pepper hair, and I want to feel the vibrations when he calls me princess right to my pussy.

But I’ve never—I don’t know how to ask for that. And what if it’s too much? Too demanding? What if it pushes him away?

It takes forever, but I find my voice. Swallowing hard, I tell Galen, “Let’s take this slow.”

Sensible. Responsible. The Kara way.

You know, it may be boring, but it’s never steered me wrong before. And the stakes are too high right now. I need this to work between us.

This man is my soulmate. It sounds crazy, but I know he is.

“Slow,” Galen repeats, then he inhales sharply and nods. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

It’s awkward, disentangling ourselves. Unwrapping limbs; smoothing hair. Galen’s waistcoat is creased beyond salvation, and I laugh weakly as I try to smooth it, silently cursing my cowardly declaration.

Is it too late to change my mind? What would he do if I gripped the back of his neck and tugged our mouths together again? Would he groan against my lips like he did before? Would he suck on my tongue?