Page 19 of A Ballad of Blackbirds and Betrayal

Time suspended in the heartbeat that followed, balanced on possibility’s edge.Then his mouth was on hers, and rational thought dissolved beneath pure sensation.

His lips were firm but surprisingly soft, tentative at first as if testing both her response and his resolve.When she responded, parting her lips, the last hesitation vanished.His hand cradled the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair as the kiss deepened into something primal.

Sabrina tasted mint and coffee on his tongue, felt stubble against her skin, and surrendered to the moment.Her hands found his chest, the solid wall of muscle beneath fine cotton, his heart’s thundering matching her own erratic rhythm.

Atticus kissed with focused intensity—thorough, deliberate, yet with barely leashed passion that weakened her knees.He explored her mouth as if mapping territory, learning what made her breath catch or a soft sound escape her throat.

Her hands moved upward, one curving around his neck while the other traced his throat, feeling his pulse hammer beneath her fingertips.She felt rather than heard his groan as her nails lightly scraped the sensitive skin at his nape, the open collar of his shirt allowing access to warm skin.

He backed her against the desk’s edge, his body radiating heat against hers.One hand spanned her waist while the other tangled deeper in her hair, angling her head to deepen the kiss.

Her breath caught as sensation swept through her.His kiss intensified, and rational thought retreated beneath unexpected emotion.The walls of her professional detachment crumbled with each passing second.

The connection’s intensity shocked her—this immediate sense of rightness unlike anything she’d experienced.His fingers flexed at her waist, bunching her blouse as if fighting the urge to cross boundaries neither was prepared to breach.

Then, as suddenly as it began, he tore his mouth from hers and stepped back, chest heaving and eyes wild with conflicting emotions.

“I can’t,” he said, voice ragged.“I—damn it.”

Confusion and lingering desire left Sabrina momentarily speechless.She watched Atticus turn away, running a hand through his hair in uncharacteristic agitation.

“Atticus—”

“This was a mistake,” he cut her off, voice harsh with self-recrimination.“We need to focus on Mitchell and the bioweapon.There’s no room for…distractions.”

The word landed like a slap.Heat rose in her cheeks—no longer from passion but humiliation.She straightened her clothing with unsteady fingers, professional dignity becoming a shield against rejection.

“Of course,” she said, voice cool despite her inner turmoil.“It won’t happen again.”

She gathered her research methodically, movements growing stiffer as silence stretched between them.

Atticus stood with his back to her, shoulders rigid, hands braced against the window as he stared at the city below.His reflection revealed a face haunted by ghosts she couldn’t name.

“Sabrina—” He finally turned, but she was already moving toward the door, research clutched to her chest like armor.

“I’m going home,” she said, not meeting his eyes.“I think we both need space to refocus on what matters.”

“Sabrina, wait.”His voice stopped her at the threshold.“You can’t go home.”

She turned, eyebrow raised in challenge.“Excuse me?”

“Mitchell’s reach extends further than you realize,” he said, tone professional again despite lingering strain.“If he connects you to Dynamis—and he will—your house won’t be safe.We have guest suites on each secure floor.Take your pick.”

“I appreciate the concern, but I can take care of myself.”

His jaw tightened.“If you go home, I’ll have to assign a security team to watch you round the clock, and I can’t spare the agents.Not with what’s happening at BioGenix.”

She recognized the logic, even as she resented it.“Fine.But this doesn’t change anything about what just happened.”

“I know.”The regret in his voice was genuine, but so was the steel that followed.“We should discuss strategy for tomorrow’s meeting.I’ll have Cal assign you a suite and transfer your files.”

“I’ll prepare treatment protocols in case she brings samples,” Sabrina said, professionalism reasserting itself despite the lingering heat of his touch.

The door closed behind her with a quiet click that echoed in the suddenly empty suite.Atticus remained motionless, staring at the space she’d occupied, her taste still on his lips, her phantom warmth tormenting him with what might have been.

His gaze drifted to the photograph on his desk—Jane smiling from a frame worn smooth from handling.Guilt crashed down with renewed force, and anger at his weakness flared hot and bright.

Eight years of discipline and focus, channeled into pursuit of justice, shattered by a single kiss.He had no right to whatever was developing with Sabrina, not when Jane’s murderer still walked free.

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