The kiss ended, leaving a vacuum of sound in the massive, empty forty-second floor.
Sophie's chest rose and fell in jagged, uneven rhythms against his coat. Her hands remained fisted in his lapels, her knuckles pale, anchoring herself to him. Her eyes were dark, dilated, searching his face for whatever came next.
Ryan let his hands slide from her waist. He took a deliberate half-step backward. The physical separation hit the air between them like a bucket of ice water.
Sophie blinked, her hands dropping to her sides. She smoothed the front of her blazer, a jerky, automatic motion to recover her professional footing.
"I need you to take point on the logistics," Ryan said, his voice entirely stripped of the gravelly heat from seconds prior. He kept his tone flat, instructional. "I have fires to put out that don't involve the software. The move-in, the furniture assembly, the keycard distributions – it all falls on you."
