Elissa’s gaze flickered over the suit jacket draped across his arm, at twinge of guilt pricking at her. “Alright, <b>fine</b>,” she murmured.


    They’d both had a bit to drink. Cliff, who lived nearby, just called a cab and headed home, while Elissa booked a ride service for herself.


    Maybe it was the deep sleep she’d had that afternoon, but now Elissa was wide awake, alert. Rowan, on the other hand, had just spent the evening humoring their mentor and had ended up drinking a few extra sses. The moment he slid into the back seat, he leaned his head against the headrest and closed his eyes, feigning sleep. Elissa could smell the faint trace of alcohol on him, mingling with the subtle woodsy scent of his cologne.


    She drank, sure, but she usually couldn’t stand the smell of liquor on someone else. Strangely, tonight, it didn’t bother her at all.


    The car was quiet. Elissa turned and watched the blur of city lights through the window, unable to remember thest time she and Rowan had sat together like this–peaceful, almostfortable.


    It had been a long time.


    So long, in fact, that she honestly couldn’t recall when.


    She’d been holding onto a grudge ever since–the hurt of not


    understanding why Rowan had just walked away from her, left her behind without a word.


    And Rowan, for his part, was probably still bitter too–bitter that three years ago, she’d pushed back against him, insisted on marrying Frank, and made him look like a fool in front of everyone.


    Ever since they’d run into each other again in Berlin, things between them had been tense–always one wrong word away from an argument.


    “That ginseng root was always meant for Mr. ine.”


    Out of nowhere, Rowan’s voice broke the silence.


    09:18


    He’d been drinking–his voice was rougher than usual, softer, stripped of its usual edge.


    Elissa blinked, surprised he was bothering to exin this to her. She


    turned to look at him. “I thought you bought <b>it </b>for Secretary Lynn’s father…”


    She remembered what he’d said at the auction–that someone wanted it, and he’d have a hard time exining himself if he didn’t get it back.


    Was that someone their mentor?


    Rowan didn’t move, still slouched against the headrest, his eyes half–shut and unreadable in the shifting streetlights. He spoke again, his tone unreadable. “What do I care about her father?”


    Elissa was suddenly certain–his girlfriend, or whoever held his heart, definitely wasn’t Lorraine. Otherwise, he’d at least pretend to care about the people close to her.


    So who was it?


    The question startled her the moment it surfaced–who Rowan actually cared about wasn’t her concern.


    “Alright,” she said, nodding. “I didn’t realize you knew our mentor’s tastes.


    so well.”


    For someone as cold and distant as Rowan, it was surprising he’d even consider what their mentor might like.


    Even sitting, he was taller than her, and he looked down at her for a long moment, a faint frown forming between his brows. “Who told you I was thinking about Mr. ine’s tastes?”


    They almost never talked like this–Elissa felt herself rx, and blurted out, “Then whose tastes were you thinking about? Mine?”


    She had wanted to buy the ginseng herself that night.


    Rowan’s dark eyes bored straight into her, his gaze lingering on her lips. His voice was low, the words almost a growl. “That’s right. Yours.”


    Elissa’s clear, bright eyes went wide with confusion. For a second, shet couldn’t breathe, her lips parting in shock. She was about to say. something when the car suddenly swerved around a corner and screeched to a sudden stop by the curb<b>. </b>


    The abrupt motion threw Elissa off bnce–she tumbled against Rowan,nding right in hisp. Instinctively, his hand shot out and caught her by the waist.


    She’d worn a skirt that day, and the sudden movement pulled it up just enough that his palmnded directly on the bare skin of her waist.


    His hand was hot–scorchingly so–heat that shot straight through her chest and into every nerve ending.


    “Sorry about that a car just ran a red light,” the driver said, snapping. Elissa back to reality.


    Flustered, she tried to push herself up, bracing her hands against Rowan’s thigh. In the confusion, her fingers brushed against something–through the fabric, it felt even warmer than his hand on her skin.


    Rowan’s breath came hard and heavy. His grip tightened around her waist, and, seizing the moment, he pulled her fully onto hisp, leaning in so close that his lips nearly grazed her ear. His voice was deep, dangerous. “Keep squirming, and I swear I’ll show you exactly what a forbidden rtionship feels like.”


    <b>09:18 </b>