Page 84 of Client Privilege

I looked up, finding his eyes on me with an intensity that made my breath catch again—but differentlythis time.

“Damian…”

“You should eat something,” he said abruptly, standing. “I’ll make us dinner.”

I followed him to the kitchen, watching as he moved efficiently through the space, pulling ingredients from the refrigerator.

“Can I help?” I asked.

He handed me an onion and a knife. “Chop this?”

The simple task anchored me. We worked side by side, the silence comfortable between us. When his arm brushed mine reaching for the salt, I felt the contact like electricity.

“What happens after?” I asked, not looking up from the cutting board.

“After what?”

“After the trial. After… everything.” I set down the knife. “What happens to us?”

Damian’s hands stilled. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“On what you want, Alex.” He turned to face me. “On what you need.”

“I don’t know what I need anymore.” My voice trembled. “Everything I thought I knew about myself, about what I wanted—Marcus twisted all of it.”

“Then you take time. You rediscover who you are without his influence.”

“And you?” I stepped closer. “Where do you fit in that future?”

His eyes darkened. “Alex…”

“Because I think about it. About you.” The confession tumbled out before I could stop it. “About what might happen if we weren’t lawyer and client.”

Damian’s breath caught. For a heartbeat, he looked utterly unguarded—vulnerable in a way I’d never seen before.

“I think about it too,” he admitted, his voice rough.

We stood so close I could feel the heat radiating from his body. My eyes dropped to his mouth, and I swayed forward, drawn by something stronger than gravity.

His hand came up to cup my face, thumb brushing my cheekbone with exquisite gentleness. For one suspended moment, I thought he would close the distance between us.

Instead, he stepped back, his expression pained.

“I can’t,” he said. “Not while I’m representing you. Not while you’re staying in my home. The power imbalance—”

“I understand,” I said quickly, mortification burning through me. “I shouldn’t have—”

“No.” His voice was firm. “This isn’t about what you did or didn’t do. It’s about ethics. About making sure I don’t take advantage of your vulnerability.”

I nodded, unable to meet his eyes.

“Alex.” He waited until I looked up. “When this is over—when Marcus is behind bars and you’re truly free—we can revisit this conversation. If you still want to.”

“And if I do?”

The smile that crossed his face was worth every moment of uncertainty.

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