The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the half-empty parking lot of the old industrial complex, the air thick with the scent of diesel and damp earth. Sanvi leaned against the hood of Veer’s black SUV, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the warm metal. The hem of her short, body-hugging dress had ridden up just enough to tease the curve of her thighs, the fabric clinging to her like a second skin. Her lips, painted a deep, sinful red, curled into a smirk as she watched Veer lock up the warehouse office, his broad shoulders tense beneath his crisp white shirt.

He was older—thirty-five to her twenty-two—but that only made the game more thrilling. The way his dark eyes flicked over her, lingering on the swell of her breasts pressing against the thin fabric, sent a jolt of heat straight between her legs. She bit her lower lip, letting her gaze drop to the obvious bulge straining against his trousers. Oh, he was already thinking about it.