The Forbidden Throb Chapter 168

Emma's POV:

The world narrowed to the warmth of Daniel's hand at my waist, the faint scent of his cologne mixing with winter air, and the deliberate rhythm of our footsteps crunching through patches of ice on the sidewalk.

"Where are we going?" I asked again, my breath misting in the cold.

Daniel's profile was sharp against the streetlights, his jaw set in that way that meant he'd already made up his mind about something.

"Somewhere I've been wanting to take you."

My heart did an uncomfortable flip. The campus buildings grew sparser as we walked, replaced by older Victorian structures with dark windows and snow-dusted stoops.

This part of Commonwealth Avenue felt abandoned, caught between the university's bright modernity and Boston's historic bones.

He steered me toward a narrow gap between two brick buildings, where an old iron gate hung slightly ajar, its hinges crusted with rust and ice.

"Daniel—"

"Trust me." His voice was low, almost a whisper, as he pushed the gate open with a metallic groan that seemed too loud in the quiet street.

Behind the gate lay what must have once been a private garden.

Bare oak branches formed a skeletal canopy overhead, their shadows shifting across snow-covered ground in the moonlight. Ivy and dormant rose vines climbed the surrounding walls, creating a natural barrier that blocked out the city's ambient glow.

The air smelled of frozen earth and something faintly sweet—old flowers preserved by winter's grip.

My pulse quickened as recognition flickered. *The Garden.* Students whispered about it in hushed tones—the legendary makeout spot near campus, hidden and forgotten, with no lights, no cameras, no witnesses.

Heat flooded my cheeks despite the cold. I turned to look at Daniel, finding his gaze already on me, dark and intent even in the dim light.

"You know what this place is," I said. Not a question.

"I know." His thumb traced a slow circle on my hip through my coat. "I've known since my first week teaching here."

My eyes widened. "You—what?"

"I used to cover classes at BU sometimes." His voice dropped lower, intimate.

The world tilted slightly.

How many moments had I lived through, unaware that somewhere in the background, Daniel Prescott had been... what? Noticing me? Thinking about me?

"I thought about bringing you here even then." His hand moved from my waist to cup my face, his touch warm against my cold skin. "Wanted to kiss you. Wanted to make sure you knew you were mine."

The confession hung in the frozen air between us. My throat tightened with emotion that made my chest ache.

"Daniel, I—"

He shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it over my shoulders in one smooth motion, his fingers lingering on my collarbone. The fabric still held his body heat, and I pulled it tighter around myself.

"Nervous?" The question came out rougher than his usual composed tone.

I shook my head, but my legs felt unsteady.

Without thinking, I reached out and grabbed the front of his vest to steady myself. The gesture brought us closer, close enough that I could see the slight dilation of his pupils, feel the warmth radiating from him.

Daniel's hands settled on my waist, then slid around to my back, drawing me flush against him. My palms pressed flat against his chest, and I could feel his heartbeat—fast, erratic, matching my own.

"Just this much," he murmured, his breath ghosting across my temple, "and you're already shaking."

"I'm not—" But my voice betrayed me, coming out thin and breathless.

His eyes glinted with something that looked almost like amusement, except there was nothing light about the way he was looking at me. "You really like seeing me in suits, don't you?"

The direct observation made me flush hotter. I'd thought I'd been subtle about it, but apparently not subtle enough.

"Is that... not allowed?" I managed, trying for defiance but landing somewhere closer to shy admission.

"Mrs. Prescott can have me wear whatever she wants." His voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "Can kiss me wherever she wants. However she wants."

The words sent electricity down my spine.

He caught one of my restless hands—the one that had unconsciously started tracing the edge of his vest—and guided it upward, letting my fingers brush along his jaw, then the corner of his mouth.

His lips moved against my fingertips, not quite a kiss. "All you have to do is tell me what you want."

I swallowed hard, the sound audible in the quiet garden. What I wanted felt too big, too consuming to put into words. Instead, I let my hand slide to the back of his neck, fingers threading into his hair.

I rose onto my toes, drawn by an impulse I couldn't name, my hands tightening on his shoulders. His breath caught as I leaned closer, my lips hovering near the sharp line of his jaw.

Then—

*Crack.*

The sharp snap of a branch breaking underfoot cut through the silence.

My heart jumped, and I instinctively pulled back from Daniel, my hands falling from his shoulders. The spell between us shattered like glass.

I spun around, eyes scanning the darkness beyond the skeletal trees. Shadows layered upon shadows, the moonlight creating deceptive shapes that could have been a person or just an overgrown bush. The ivy-covered walls seemed to shift and breathe in the wind.

"Did you hear that?" I whispered.

We stood frozen, listening. The wind rustled through bare branches overhead. Somewhere in the distance, a car horn blared. But here, in this forgotten garden, there was only silence.

"Maybe it was just an animal," I said, but my voice wavered with uncertainty.