His rules of social engagement were coded like a strict algorithm, relying on absolute rationality to deconstruct human emotion.
He viewed the joys and sorrows of the world as mere data points waiting to be analyzed.
He was like a top-tier supercomputer.
Boasting unimaginable processing power, but completely devoid of warmth.
...
Noreen rode the elevator up to her hotel floor, still staring at her silent phone.
He must have gone to bed. After all, the last couple of days had been exhausting for him, too.
Noreen swiped her keycard and stepped inside, only to find the suite pitch-black. Not a single lamp was on.
Did Seth leave?
Noreen fumbled along the wall and flicked the switch.
Light flooded the room, and she gasped, startled by the figure sitting silently on the living room sofa.
"Why are you sitting in the dark?" Noreen asked, a hand pressed to her chest.
Seth stared back at her, his dark eyes narrowed and completely unreadable.
Missing the warning signs, Noreen walked closer. "Did you eat?"
"No," he said.
"It's so late, why haven't you eaten?" she frowned.
Instead of answering, Seth simply crooked a finger at her. "Come here, Noreen."
For some reason, a chill danced down Noreen's spine.
She brushed it off, assuming the air conditioning was just set too low, and took a few steps forward.
When she was just an arm's length away, the man suddenly lunged. His long arm snapped out.
The world spun, and before she could even shriek, she crashed hard into his lap.
Seth's arm locked around her waist like a band of iron, the grip so tight it knocked the breath out of her.
He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his nose brushing against the hyper-sensitive skin behind her ear as he inhaled deeply.
"What did you and Claire have for dinner?" he asked. His tone was deceptively casual, while his large hand began a slow, deliberate stroke up and down her spine.


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