Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Halle peered up at me, and I was dying to know what she was thinking. I was dying to touch her. Kiss her. But that was nothing new. It was pretty much my default setting.
“Jasper,” she whispered, and I nearly groaned at the sound of my name on her lips. Followed by my second favorite word, “Please.”
She was beautiful. A fucking smokeshow in her emerald-green silk dress that flowed over her curves in the most tantalizing way. The color contrasted perfectly with her creamy skin and red hair.
Every cell in my body was attuned to her. My hand rested on her hip, and her palm was pressed to my chest. If I moved an inch, we’d be kissing.
I hadn’t felt this alive in months. I couldn’t let her slip through my fingers, not again.
I smoothed my hand over her hip until it was resting on her lower back. “Please, what?”
She clutched my shirt, gathering the fabric as if to hold on to her control. I wanted her to give it up, to give it all to me.
Please. Please. I was all but holding my breath. Give in to this. In to me. Us.
She was so damn close. I could sense it, and I wanted it.
Fuck my goals. Fuck the company. None of it mattered—not without her.
It all felt so hollow. Empty.
And I was so damn tired. Of tempering my thoughts. Of being diplomatic. But all that seemed easy in comparison to pretending I felt nothing for Halle.
But I also knew I couldn’t just turn my back on the Huxley Grand. I couldn’t—and wouldn’t—ignore the welfare of our employees, the future of the brand, my family’s legacy, Sloan. I was unwilling to give up one for the other. I was determined to find a way to have both.
I was determined to find a way to run the family business with Halle at my side—not just in the office, but in my life in every way that mattered. Because I couldn’t do this without her, and I didn’t want to.
She drifted closer, so close that our lips were practically touching. It was agony. It was ecstasy. She was a rose garden in bloom—lovely and full of promise, her scent luring me in like a bee to nectar.
It was almost impossible to ignore her pull, but she had to take that next step. I needed to know that she wanted this.
“I want you,” she whispered, and my heart stuttered at those words, “to kiss me.”
I’d waited so long for this that I wanted to take my time. Savor it.
I cupped her cheeks, marveling at the constellation of freckles scattered over the bridge of her nose. She tilted her head, leaning into my touch. And I reveled in it. In the fact that she trusted me. Wanted me.
I stroked her jawline, scarcely holding back.
I was so tempted to seize her mouth like a man desperate for oxygen.
I wanted to press my lips to hers, pry her mouth open with my tongue and taste it for myself.
I knew what it would taste like—decadent, rich, and sinful.
Because that’s what it felt like when I kissed Halle.
But then I realized she still hadn’t answered my question. At least, not with the sort of clarity I needed. There could be no room for misinterpretation.
It was great that she wanted me to kiss her.
And I was relieved she’d finally admitted it, but I didn’t want just sex with Halle—though the sex was amazing.
I wanted it all. I wanted lazy Sunday mornings in bed.
I wanted time with her and Kai. I wanted to know her innermost thoughts and her deepest desires.
And I wanted to be the one to give her everything.
Her eyes fluttered closed, lashes fanning out, dark and inky. I moved in, desperate to claim her mouth.
“Answer me, Halle,” I rasped, mere centimeters from her lips. “Tell me that you’re all in.” It was a plea, a wish. And only she had the power to grant it.
I was weak for this woman, but I vowed to stand firm. I’d meant what I’d said—I would wait for her. So until she confirmed that was what she wanted, I wasn’t willing to kiss her. It might kill me, but the idea of not having all of her, of her leaving again, was even more painful.
She parted her lips as if to say something. But before she could, the door to the stairwell swung open.
I froze, and so did Halle. We stared at each other, suspended momentarily. And then I dropped my hand, and she backed away. Fuck!
A waiter stood in the doorway. “Sorry,” he said, eyes ping-ponging between us. Relief and regret mingled within me. “I didn’t realize—” He backed away as if to close the door behind him.
I lunged for the exit, sobering. I didn’t want to leave, not with everything so unsettled, but I also didn’t want to be stuck anymore. But seriously? Why now?
“No. Wait.” I grabbed the edge of the door, not willing to let it close again.
Halle needed to get back to her room so she could call her son. Whatever we needed to discuss could wait until later. For now, it was enough that we’d started the conversation. She knew what I wanted, and I’d promised to be patient if that was what she needed.
The waiter paused, holding the door open for us while we gathered our things. Halle slipped on her shoes and gripped the trash from the protein bar in her hand. I waited for her to go through the door before following.
“Thank you,” I said to the waiter. “We really appreciate you rescuing us.”
“Yes. Thank you,” Halle said, her cheeks flushed with color. She turned to me. “I have to go call Kai.”
“Yes. Go. Go.” We could talk more later, if that’s what she wanted.
She held my gaze a moment, and I wondered if I imagined the look of regret in her eyes.
Halle excused herself, her phone already held to her ear. As she rushed down the hall toward the elevator bank, I hoped Kai was okay.
I removed several bills from my wallet and handed them to the waiter. “Sincerely, thank you.”
He laughed, staring down at the cash in shock. “All I did was open the door. But hey, you’re welcome.”
“Take it,” I said, pushing it toward him. He hesitated for another moment before finally accepting the money with a quiet thanks. “Tell me something. Is the door at the bottom always locked?”
The waiter furrowed his brow. “I don’t usually go to that level, but it should be unlocked. It wasn’t?” I shook my head. “I’ll have the maintenance staff check into it.”
“So will I,” I said. “It’s a safety hazard.”
The waiter returned to his duties. The party was still going strong, but I was in no mood to socialize.
There was only one person I wanted to see, and she’d already left.
As much as I wanted to see Halle again, to know what she was thinking, I didn’t want to push too hard.
If experience was any indication, that would only make her run away.
Instead, I forced myself to focus on my responsibilities.
If I was serious about balancing my relationship with my new role in the company, I needed to find out why that crash bar at the bottom of the stairwell was locked and get it rectified immediately.
It was a safety hazard and a fire code violation.
I glanced at my phone, my eyes bulging at all the messages I’d missed. I skimmed them while waiting for the elevator. My new assistant, Charlie, had sent me a few updates. The family text thread was going wild with auction updates from Knox and Nate to Graham and Sloan.
I opened a text message to Graham. It was nearly three in the morning in France, but I knew he’d probably silenced his notifications. Now that he was no longer CEO, he had the luxury of unplugging. And somehow, knowing that he might not be up to respond made it easier to send my text.
Me: We missed you tonight.
There. It was a start.
I went to the hotel control center and spoke with security, management, and operations. A group of us went down to ground level and discovered that the door had been blocked from the other side. A pile of things had been stacked in front of it, essentially using the area as a storage space.
“This is unacceptable,” I seethed, enraged. To think that people could have been trapped in the stairwell in the event of a fire made me sick. “I want this cleared immediately. And I want all the other stairwells checked.”
“Yes, sir,” the manager rushed to respond.
“I also expect a report by Monday, explaining how this happened and how it will be prevented in the future.”
“Absolutely.”
He was lucky I wasn’t going to fire him—for now. But I would certainly be keeping a closer eye on things at this location—and every location. Right now, my priority was making sure he understood how serious this was. I was satisfied that he seemed just as appalled as I was by the situation.
With that done, I headed back to the elevators.
I needed to update Halle and Mike, who was standing in for Jackson as chief of security during Jackson’s paternity leave.
I opened my email on my phone and sent them both a message about the stairwell situation, asking Mike to look into it at every location.
Then, I navigated to my text messages, tapping on Halle’s name.
I didn’t like to leave things unfinished, especially not with her.
I was so tempted to rush up to her room, to demand she tell me what she’d planned to say before the waiter interrupted us in the stairwell.
But I knew she had responsibilities of her own, and I’d never encroach on her time with her son.
Even so, I wanted her to know that I’d meant what I’d said—I was here for her. Her and Kai. I was worried about him after everything she’d told me. I could only imagine how she felt as his mom. When I got back to my room, I texted her.
Me: I hope you got to talk to Kai and that he was well.
I knew I’d drive myself crazy if I sat by the phone waiting for her to respond. So I tossed my phone aside and headed for the shower. As soon as I was out, I heard my phone buzz.
Halle: Thanks. He was actually asleep. Craig sent me this picture.
A sense of relief washed over me. Kai was fine. Rosie was good. And Halle wasn’t avoiding me.