“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Julian Vance growled from the slate floor, his wheelchair sitting just out of reach like a calculated insult. The tech mogul who once made venture capitalists wait outside his office was now helpless in his own Lake Washington mansion… until the 25-year-old nanny touched his shoulder and lifted him like she had done it a hundred times before. And the way she knew exactly where to place her hands made his face go completely still.

Three days before the gala, we hit a wall.

It was near midnight. The house was dead quiet. I was strapped into the titanium leg braces in the center of the conservatory. Clara was standing two feet away, her arms crossed.

“Let go of the walker, Julian,” she commanded.

“My left quad isn't firing,” I ground out, my knuckles white on the aluminum grips. “If I let go, I’m going to fall.”

“The braces will hold the joint. You need to trust your core. Let go.”

“I can't!”

“You can. Let go!”

I released my grip. For one agonizing second, I balanced on my own two feet. Then, the weakness in my lower spine betrayed me. My left leg gave out, and I crashed heavily to the mats, the metal braces clanking loudly against the floor.

I punched the mat in blind rage, screaming in frustration. “It’s useless! I’m broken, Clara! Just admit it!”

Clara dropped to her knees beside me. She didn't offer a clinical assessment. She didn't tell me to reset. Instead, she reached out and grabbed my face in both her hands, forcing me to look at her. Her eyes were blazing with a fierce, protective fire.

“You are not broken,” she said, her voice fierce and thick with emotion. “You are the strongest man I have ever met. You survived a crash that should have killed you. You fought for your daughter. You fought for me. Now fight for yourself.”

Her face was inches from mine. I could feel her warm breath against my skin. The clinical boundary that had existed between us evaporated in the dark room.

I looked at her lips, then up to her eyes. She knew exactly what I was thinking. The air between us cracked with a heavy, magnetic tension. I leaned in, my heart pounding harder than it had during any physical exertion.