The sight of her, half-unveiled in the amber glow of the office, acted like a physical blow to Arjun’s chest. The contrast of the dark lace against her fair, luminous skin was almost too much to bear. He didn't wait for another invitation; he reached out, his palms sliding over the silk of her saree to find the warm, soft flesh of her waist, pulling her flush against him. The friction of their clothes—his cotton shirt against her delicate silk—created a static charge that seemed to set the air on fire.

Sandhya let out a sharp, breathless gasp as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, his lips grazing the pulse point that was drumming wildly. "Arjun," she moaned, her head tilting back, exposing the long, elegant line of her throat to him. "God, you have no idea... how much I've craved this."