Chapter 51

Harper's POV

The weight of his palm is light but deliberate, his fingers warm and steady, and he moves with the unhurried confidence of someone who has never once been told no.

I stiffen instantly. My fork hovers in the air, forgotten, the food on my plate untouched. My body tenses, but I don't move. Not yet. His voice flows on beside me, lazy and unbothered, describing a suite that overlooked the slopes, a resort that only accepts long-term members. He laughs to himself, amused by some private joke. I barely hear him.

His hand moves again.

The glide of his fingers traces the length of my thigh, slow and steady, moving higher. The fabric of my dress shifts against my skin as he pushes past it, inch by inch, sliding toward places no one in this room should ever be touching. My breath catches and holds in my chest. I