Page 34 of Crossing Lines

“Yes.”

“Okay.” I shrug. “Have at it.”

“What are you working on?” She lifts her chin toward my screen.

“Spreadsheets.”

“And is working at midnight a regular thing for you, too?”

“Unfortunately.” I miss sleeping and not thinking, where everything shuts off. Where I feel refreshed in the mornings instead of feeling like I’m living one long, unending day.

“And what about when you finish work at night?” she asks. “What do you do afterwards, before sleeping?”

“You’re awfullycurious about my habits. Planning to murder me in my sleep?”

“Depends on if you answer or not.”

My lips twitch. “I don’t do anything, just lie in bed.”

“Nothing? No doomscrolling on social media?”

I must make a face because she laughs.

“No,” she says, “of courseyouwouldn’t doomscroll. What was I thinking? You probably don’t know how to download an app with your advanced age.”

“I’m well versed inmanythingsbecauseof my age.” I give her a filthy smirk, and she swallows hard.

Nina is so tempting with her defiant, tenacious, and unyielding personality. And she’s quickly, frustratingly, becoming irresistible.

“Oh really?” Her voice is all husky and sexy. “Like what?”

“Everything you’re thinking about,pariltim.”

The second the nickname leaves my mouth, I wish I could reel it back in. A nickname is too personal, too close to caring. Even if it fits her perfectly. It meansmy sparklein Turkish. It’s exactly what she is, sparkly and shiny, with her bold outfits and sassy mouth that demand attention.

Her eyes narrow. “What does that word mean?”

“Nothing.”

She gives me a long look, clearly not believing me, and I ask, “Are you going to get started?” I wave a hand toward the bathroom, needing to distract her from my slipup. “Or just stand there?”

“You don’t mind? That I need to decorate at midnight?”

“Why would I mind? I’m up anyway.”

Her face softens for a split second, something I would’ve missed if I wasn’t looking at her so closely. She inches closer, her movements deliberate, as if she’s testing the air between us. My heart races, anticipation thickening. I have no idea what she’s going to do, but I desperately want to find out.

Her jasmine scent wraps around me, intoxicating and bold, holding me captive. She reaches for the window latch, her shoulder grazing mine. A shockwave of heat sears through me that’s impossible to ignore. It’s a simple touch, but it doesn’t change the fact that my worldnarrows into the few inches where her body presses into mine.

When she finally opens the window, the sudden rush of fresh air fills the room, but it doesn’t clear the tension. Instead, it somehow amplifies it. Nina’s cheeks flush and it ignites a spark of desire deep within me.

She turns her head sharply to look at me. “What are you staring at?” she snaps, but there’s an edge of breathlessness in her tone that betrays her.

“Just admiring the view,” I reply, my voice low and teasing, but inside, I’m battling the urge to pull her closer, to let the electricity between us spark into something more.

“Fuck off, that’s so cliché.”

I shrug. I’m sure she’d punch me if I told her that it’s the truth. Instead, I ask, “Why did you open the window?”

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