The office was too quiet. Too empty. The alcohol coursing through Miranda's veins made everything slightly blurry around the edges, but her rage remained crystal clear.
"I'm sorry for calling you an ass," Miranda announced to Nolan, her voice echoing in the expansive office. "Even though you sometimes are." She couldn't help adding the last part, her filter completely dissolved by the expensive scotch.
Nolan leaned against his desk, his expression unreadable as he studied her. The intensity of his gray eyes made her skin prickle with awareness.
"Apology accepted," he replied, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through her chest. "Though I'm not sure how sincere it was."
Miranda waved her hand dismissively, nearly losing her balance in the process. "Did you ever cheat on your ex-wife?" The question escaped her lips before she could stop it.
Something flickered across Nolan's face—a flash of pain quickly masked.
"No," he answered after a moment. "Rosalyn was the one who cheated. Multiple times."
Miranda blinked, surprised by his honesty. "Oh."
"Oh?" Nolan raised an eyebrow.
"I just... I didn't expect that. You seem like the type who would have women throwing themselves at you." Her cheeks heated as she realized what she'd said.
Nolan's mouth curved into a humorless smile. "They did. I didn't reciprocate."
"Why not?" Miranda asked, genuinely curious now.
"Because I believed in my marriage vows," he said simply. "Even when Rosalyn clearly didn't."
Miranda nodded slowly, feeling an unexpected kinship with this man she'd always found so intimidating. They'd both been betrayed by people they trusted.
Nolan moved closer, his scent—expensive cologne mingled with something uniquely him—making her dizzy in a way that had nothing to do with alcohol.
"Do you want to talk about what happened with Ryan?" he asked, his voice gentler than she'd ever heard it.
Miranda laughed bitterly. "What's there to say? Found my fiancé fucking my cousin in our bed. End of story."
"And how do you feel about that?" Nolan pressed, watching her carefully.
"Angry," she answered immediately. "More angry than heartbroken, which is strange, isn't it?" She frowned, realizing the truth of her words only as she spoke them. "I should be devastated, but mostly I'm just... furious."
"Perhaps you weren't as in love as you thought."
Miranda considered this. "Maybe not. I kept pushing back the wedding date. Ryan was always pushing for it, but something kept holding me back." She swallowed hard. "There was no... fire between us. No passion. Just comfort and familiarity."
Nolan remained silent, letting her work through her thoughts.
"God, that's pathetic, isn't it? I was going to marry a man who didn't even make my heart race." Miranda laughed again, the sound hollow. "And the sad thing is, I have nothing to compare it to. Ryan's the only man I've ever been with."
The silence that followed her confession was electric. Miranda found herself staring at Nolan's mouth—the perfect curve of his lips, the slight shadow of stubble on his jaw. What would it feel like to kiss him? The thought appeared from nowhere, shocking in its clarity.
"That's not pathetic," Nolan finally said, his voice rougher than before. "That's—"
Miranda didn't let him finish. In a moment of reckless courage fueled by alcohol and desperation, she grabbed his silk tie and pulled him down to her level. Their lips crashed together, and everything in her world tilted on its axis.
This. This was what had been missing.
Nolan's lips were firm against hers, his surprise evident in his momentary stillness before he responded with a hunger that matched her own. His hands gripped her waist, not pushing her away but pulling her closer. Miranda gasped against his mouth, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensation.
When Nolan finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with desire. "Miranda, we shouldn't—"
"Please," she whispered, cutting him off with another kiss. "Please don't stop."
His resistance crumbled visibly. With a low growl, Nolan spun them around, lifting Miranda onto his desk in one fluid motion. Her skirt rode up her thighs as he stepped between them, his hands tangling in her hair as he deepened the kiss.
For the first time in her life, Miranda understood what it meant to be consumed by desire. Every nerve ending in her body was alive, every touch electric. This wasn't just a kiss—it was a revelation.
And as Nolan's mouth moved from her lips to her neck, Miranda surrendered completely to the fire she'd been missing all her life.