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Normally, I wouldn’t care. So why the hell am I even thinking about it now?

Her voice snaps me out of the spiral.

“Do you think there’s a path that leads up there?”

Following her gaze, I turn my head to the right. In the distance, a mountain rises higher than the rest, and at its peak a light flickers, shifting colors every few seconds.

“Of course there is,” I reply, watching her closely.

“How long do you think it would take to walk there?”

“On foot? Through this forest, with signs warning about falling rocks, bears, and whatever else might be out there?”

“Don’t tell me you’d actually be scared to go,” she shoots back, sarcasm dripping from every word.

“I’m not afraid of anything, Thalia. But those signs that say ‘no hiking’? They’re there for a reason.”

“Rules are meant to be broken,” she counters, and there’s a fire in her eyes that steals my words for a few moments.

Fuck it.

“What other rules would you want to break?” I ask, my tone heavy with suggestion.

At my words, her head snaps back toward me. Her lips part, her eyes widening as she stares.

“I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to be asking me that when you’ve got a woman waiting for you in your bed.”

My face remains unreadable—the same mask I wear in negotiations, trained to reveal nothing.

But her voice?

That definitely sounded like jealousy.

“I asked you a simple question, Thalia. If you’re the one who wants to take it in that direction, that’s not my fault.”

I’m having the time of my life provoking her, feeding her just enough fire until she explodes.

I can see the effort she makes to hold herself back, the way her jaw locks. But in the end, she decides not to.

“You know what?” she breathes, pushing away from where she’s been sitting.

She starts toward me—unhurried, but not timid. Sensual, with the same feline grace she used earlier.

And the closer she gets, the harder it becomes not to notice the way her silk top clings to her wet skin, her nipples pressing sharply against the fabric.

You know how I said I was already hard?

Now I’m seconds away from that painful edge where I either get relief or lose my goddamn mind.

“I’m sure you enjoy teasing me, but I honestly don’t know what you’re trying to get out of it, Ethan,” she whispers once she stops in front of me.

Her arms stretch above my shoulders—without touching—before resting against the rim of the jacuzzi.

It takes every ounce of control I have to keep my hands planted firmly on the edge instead of sliding them over her body.

And then, painfully slow, she leans in.

Her lips brush against my ear as she adds, “And for a man who’s been ignoring me for so long, you sure enjoy saying my name now.”