15. Ivy
15
IVY
I swirl the last bite of pasta around my fork, savoring the rich flavors of Julian's homemade carbonara. I didn't really expect him to be such a good cook, but he's fantastic. The kitchen's warm lighting catches the gray at his temples, so at odds with the dark black of the rest of his hair, as he leans back in his chair, ice blue eyes fixed on me.
"I have a company Christmas party coming up next week." His deep voice carries across the granite island between us.
I perk up, straightening in my seat. "Really? What are your plans for it?"
"Nothing special. Just the usual - drinks, food, networking." He takes a sip of his wine, the crystal catching the light. "It's more of an obligation than anything else."
"Oh, that won't do at all." I set my fork down with a gentle clink. "Christmas parties should be magical. The right decorations, music, food - it all creates an atmosphere people remember."
A ghost of amusement crosses his face. "You sound passionate about this."
"I was an event planner before..." I wave my hand, not wanting to bring it up. "I loved making spaces come alive. Transforming them into something special."
"Is that so?" His eyes narrow slightly, studying me.
"Let me help plan it." The words tumble out before I can stop them, and a knowing smile pulls on his face. I have a feeling he mentioned this to me on purpose. "I know all the best vendors in Chicago, the perfect caterers who can handle last-minute events. Plus, the holiday decor rental companies still owe me favors."
Julian sets his wine glass down, folding his hands on the table. "It's not exactly a typical corporate event, Ivy."
"Even better. Those are always so boring." I lean forward, excitement building. "Trust me, I can make it memorable while keeping it sophisticated. What's the venue?"
"I booked out the rooftop at Chateau Carbide."
"Perfect!" My mind's already racing with possibilities. "How many guests?"
"Around a hundred." He pauses, watching me intently. "You really want to do this?"
"More than anything. Please?" I give him my best smile. "Let me make it special for you."
A long moment passes before the corner of his mouth ticks up. "Alright. But I have final approval on everything."
It doesn't take me long to dive into everything. It's familiar to start getting what I need for a party together. Julian even sets me up in his office with his computer so I can start putting together mood boards and inspiration pictures.
I spread the sample menus across Julian's mahogany desk, arranging them by cuisine type. My fingers trail over the thick cardstock, tracing the elegant fonts. "The seafood tower from La Mer would make a stunning centerpiece. And look at these passed hors d'oeuvres from Antoine's."
Julian rises from his leather chair, moving to stand behind me. His presence radiates warmth against my back as he leans over my shoulder. The spicy notes of his cologne wrap around me, making it hard to focus on the papers.
"Walk me through your vision." His breath stirs my hair.
"Start with champagne and caviar." I point to the first menu. "Then these lobster bites with gold leaf. For the main stations - carved prime rib, fresh oysters, and that seafood tower. Everything elegant, indulgent."
His hand brushes mine as he picks up one of the menus. "You've chosen all my favorites."
"I pay attention." Heat blooms in my chest at his approving tone. "The dessert display will be spectacular - individual chocolate soufflés, crème br?lée, fresh berries."
"Impressive." He sets the menu down, turning me to face him. "You've exceeded my expectations, sweet girl."
My heart skips at the praise, at the intensity in those ice-blue eyes. I can't help the smile that spreads across my face. "So you approve?"
"Every detail." His thumb traces my jawline. "You have excellent taste."
The warmth of his approval spreads through me like honey, sweet and golden. I find myself leaning into his touch, craving more of that intoxicating validation. His expression softens with pride, and my smile grows wider.
"I want everything to be perfect for you." The words come out barely above a whisper.
"It will be." His other hand settles on my waist. "Thanks to you."
I grin and turn back to the menus before me. But as I do, I catch my reflection in the floor-to-ceiling windows along the side of his study, and for a moment I don't recognize the woman staring back.
My skin has a luminous quality I've never seen before, my amber-brown eyes bright and alive. Even my hair seems different, the burgundy highlights catching the late afternoon sun streaming through the glass.
Julian moves closer behind me like a shadow, his arm snaking around my waist. He pulls me back against his chest, the solid wall of him anchoring me in place. His expensive suit jacket brushes against my bare arms, the fabric cool and smooth.
"Look at us." His voice rumbles through his chest and into my back. "Look how perfectly you fit here."
In the reflection, we're a study in contrasts. His towering frame dwarfs my petite one, his dark suit a backdrop for the silky red cropped top and tiny shorts he has me in. His large hand splays across my stomach, fingers spanning almost the entire width of my waist. The way he holds me - possessive, protective - makes something deep inside me purr with satisfaction.
"We're quite the pair." His other hand comes up to brush my hair aside, exposing the crescent moon birthmark on my neck. "Like we were made for each other."
The reflection shows what I've been trying to deny - how right this feels, how natural. His ice-blue eyes meet mine in the glass, intense and unblinking. I watch as he lowers his head to press his lips against my birthmark, the gesture oddly intimate in our mirrored image.
"Do you see it now? How perfect we are together?"
I nod slowly, my lips parting as he starts to kiss up my neck. But watching myself - almost someone I don't recognize - it does something to me.
His words stay with me until later that night when I curl up in the bed alone. Julian is in the study, handling calls, and I needed to process. Spending time event planning, acting like this is my real life, has sent me spiraling a little.
I lie awake in our bed, staring at shadows dancing across the ceiling. The silk sheets whisper against my skin as I shift, unable to get comfortable despite the mattress that probably costs more than I'd make in a month.
My hand drifts to my neck, to the spot where Julian's lips pressed against my birthmark. The phantom sensation lingers hours later, burning like a brand. I squeeze my eyes shut, but it doesn't stop the memories from flooding in - his possessive touch, how perfectly I fit against him, how he was right.
We do seem to be perfectly made for each other.
A tear slides down my cheek, disappearing into the mattress beneath me. Then another. And another. Soon I'm curled on my side, silent sobs wracking my body as the truth I've been fighting crashes over me in waves.
I'm falling for him. For Julian Kane - the man who terrifies and thrills me in equal measure. The man whose very presence commands every room he enters. The man who - despite him seemingly not wanting me to know - kills people for a living.
My fingers clutch the sheets as more tears come. I don't know if I'm crying from fear of what this means, or relief at finally admitting it to myself. The emotion feels like it's tearing me apart, splitting me between who I was and who I'm becoming.
I press my face into the pillow to muffle a particularly sharp sob. The vanilla scent of my shampoo mingles with traces of Julian's cologne that seem to permeate everything in this house. Even here, in this room, I can't escape him. Don't want to escape him.
"What's happening to me?" I whisper into the darkness. The words taste like surrender on my tongue.
My chest aches with the weight of this revelation. Each tear that falls feels like acceptance, like letting go of the last threads of denial I've been clinging to. I'm falling for a dangerous man, and there's nothing I can do to stop it.