Diana and William stepped out of the Bureau, each holding a red marriage certificate. She was now, legally and officially, the new Mrs. Knight.
Walking half a step behind him, Diana found herself tracing the lines of William's back. He had his suit jacket draped over his arm, his white shirt tucked perfectly into his belt, emphasizing the broad set of his shoulders and his narrow waist. In the sunlight, every stride he took was steady and powerful. His tailored black trousers clung to the lines of his legs, highlighting a firm, athletic build.
A joke her best friend once made popped into her head: Men with a build like that usually have incredible stamina...
William stopped and turned without warning. Diana quickly jerked her gaze away from his lower half, pretending to be deeply interested in a distant row of trees.
"Do you have time now?" William's voice was a low silk. "I'd like to take you to the family estate to formally meet everyone."
Since the contract was sealed, these formalities were expected. Diana nodded. "I do."
Just then, William's phone buzzed. When he answered, his assistant's frantic voice was barely audible. "Lord Knight, there's an emergency with the coastal project. The lead partner demands to see you immediately."
Hanging up, William frowned slightly, looking at Diana with a hint of apology. "An emergency at the office. Meeting the family will have to wait."
Diana didn't mind. Theirs was a union of adults—rational and independent. There was no need for the clingy drama of teenagers. She gave him a graceful smile. "Work comes first. We have plenty of time."
William started to walk toward his car, then doubled back, his eyes locking onto hers. "Where are you headed? I'll drop you off."
"To the office," Diana said, taking the lead this time.
William followed. His gaze traveled from the nape of her neck, down her spine, and settled on the rounded curve of her hips accentuated by her fitted dress. For some reason, a stray memory flickered in his mind—a small, dark mole in a hidden, intimate place. It had been hauntingly beautiful.
His Adam's apple bobbed. He reached up to loosen his tie and undid the top two buttons of his shirt, revealing the sharp lines of his collarbone.
He looked up at the midday sun, his brow furrowed. "Why is it so hot today?"
The assistant nearby shrunk back, whispering, "Sir, it's actually two degrees cooler than yesterday."
"Is it?" William murmured distractedly, his eyes drifting back to the woman walking ahead of him.
The back of the Rolls-Royce was spacious, yet the air felt thick between them. William opened his laptop, his long fingers flying across the keys as he handled urgent emails. Diana pulled out her phone to respond to messages from her students.
The only sounds were their soft breathing and the rhythmic clicking of the keyboard.
The car moved fast, the city blurring outside. As Diana was typing, she felt a sudden, heavy weight and a surge of heat against her outer thigh.
Because of the way she was sitting, her hem had ridden up, exposing a significant stretch of pale, silky skin. William's leg, clad in dark wool, was now pressed firmly against hers. The contrast between the cold black fabric and her snow-white skin was visually electric.
William didn't look away from his screen, his tone flat. "Apologies. The car swerved."
"It's fine," Diana said, shifting slightly to the side.
But a few minutes later, that heavy pressure returned. This time, William didn't pull away. Instead, he seemed to lean into the contact.
Confused, Diana turned her head and collided with his deep, dark eyes.
The air in the car seemed to vanish. In the silence of the enclosed space, their faces were inches apart. The tension between them was a living thing, pulling and snapping.
His face remained a mask of professional detachment, but his voice held a possessive edge. "We are legally married. Physical contact is a right. Eventually... we will be doing much more intimate things."
Diana's heart skipped a beat. They were adults; she knew exactly what "more intimate things" meant.
Her face burned as if she were standing too close to a fire. She turned her head to look out the window, trying to use the passing scenery to cool the heat rising in her chest.
Seeing that she didn't protest, William didn't move. His leg remained there, dominant, claiming her space. With every slight bump in the road, the fabric of his trousers brushed against the sensitive skin of her inner knee. It sent a subtle current through her that made it impossible to sit still.
"Turn up the AC," William suddenly barked at the partition, his voice sounding rougher than before. "It's too hot in here."
The car pulled up in front of the Education and Technology Tower in the heart of the city. Before getting out, Diana gathered her courage and poked his leg—which still hadn't moved an inch.
Her finger met solid, tensed muscle. It felt like touching a coiled spring of heat. Her fingertip went numb, and she yanked her hand back.
William watched her reaction—like a startled deer—and a ghost of a smirk appeared on his lips before he finally, slowly, retracted his leg.
"I know this firm. You're an A-list lecturer here?" William asked, eyeing the logo atop the building.
Diana was surprised. "You follow the education sector, Lord Knight?"
"It's a niche market, but 'Touchstone' has a reputation," William said smoothly. "Especially your custom prep plans for high school seniors. You're famous for it."
Diana realized. "Does the Knight family have someone heading for university?"
"A troublesome one starting senior year next semester," William said vaguely, though his gaze lingered on Diana as if he were already making plans.
As Diana leaned forward to unbuckle her seatbelt, William suddenly leaned over her. His arm, corded with muscle and faint veins, crossed her chest, his sleeve brushing against her curves.
Diana instinctively pressed back into her seat, trapped.
Click. The seatbelt snapped open.
"There you go," William said, pulling back as if the intimate proximity had been nothing more than a helpful gesture.
Diana practically bolted from the car. All her usual poise and etiquette vanished; she didn't even say goodbye.
William sat in the back, watching her figure disappear into the lobby. He looked down at the arm that had just brushed against her and rubbed his fingertips together unconsciously.
He turned back to his laptop, but his frown remained. After a moment, he tapped the partition again, his voice cold and sharp.
"Drop the temperature another two degrees."
The weather, he thought, is getting unbearable.