Catherine felt the change between them almost instantly. The air had grown heavier, charged with something she could neither ignore nor fully name and even breathing felt deliberate.
He was right there in front of her: bare, unguarded, completely open to her gaze. And her body… betrayed her.
Why couldn't she touch him?
Her hand would lift, hesitate, and fall again, as though her mind and her instincts were fighting two different battles.
Across from her, Maximilian was struggling just as much. When he had begun to wake, there had been a softness against him… warmth… and her scent wrapped around him like something dangerously addictive.
For one terrifying second, he thought he had crossed a line in his sleep, that she would retreat again, build those cold, careful walls, and shut him out completely.
But then he understood.
It wasn't him who had moved closer.
It was her.
She had come to him.
That realization alone nearly shattered his control.
