Chapter Three
Aiden
COOL AIR CHILLS the water droplets clinging to my skin as I haul myself out of the pool. I sit on the edge, my calves still submerged, my breathing harsh. My blood is pumping, heart racing as I stare at the rippling water.
For a precious thirty minutes, there was nothing but the water and me. No thoughts of Seraphina, no memories of how she felt in my arms, no faint gasp echoing in my ears as her eyes met mine.
My fingers tighten on the edge of the pool. In three years, I’ve never once seen Seraphina so much as give me a flirtatious glance. But last night, if I’d lowered my mouth to hers, there’s no doubt in my mind she would have kissed me back.
Blood rushes to my cock as images fill my mind. The sensuous twist of her hips as she spun, the way her skirt parted to show her bare legs as she leaped with fire in her hands.
Legs I can easily picture wrapped around my waist as I slide deep inside her.
Fuck.
I stand and stalk across the terrace to the chaise longue where I tossed my water bottle and towel.
I flip open the lid and chug the entire bottle.
As I grab the towel and wrap it around my hips, I stare out over Central Park.
It’s just six o’clock in the morning. Mist clings to the trees over a thousand feet below me.
The sun’s already broken the horizon but is still hidden behind the sweep of skyscrapers and mammoth structures that make up New York City.
One of my favorite times of the day, when the city is the closest to quiet it will ever get. When I can stand and take it all in, look down on the streets that once treated me with such disdain, and know that I now stand above.
But there’s no pride this morning, no satisfaction. Instead, there’s lust. Obsession. Three years of suppressing my attraction for Seraphina, all that effort erased by my carelessness.
I turn my back on the city and walk through the terrace doors into my penthouse just in time to hear the shrill ring of my phone. I frown as I walk toward the kitchen. Who the hell is calling me just after sunrise on a Sunday morning?
Seraphina.
No. Judging by the way she ran last night after dropping her bombshell comment about resigning, I’m the last person she wants to talk to now.
Although I should probably text her today and disabuse her of that notion.
I don’t fault her for thinking the worst. I didn’t exactly do a good job of explaining why I followed her or why I was upset.
Hell, I could barely figure it out myself. I normally have an iron grip on myself. But when our eyes met, when I realized who the seductive fire dancer was, I had to follow her. Had to talk to her, demand answers.
Instead, I nearly made the mistake of a lifetime.
I’ll fix this, one way or another. It might take a generous bump in pay or an extra vacation, but I will do whatever it takes to keep Seraphina at Hawke Financial.
The phone stops ringing as I near the kitchen, only to immediately squawk again seconds later. I grab it from where I laid it next to the coffeepot. I read the name on the screen and frown.
“Morning, Randolph. Everything okay?”
“What the hell do you think, Hawke?”
Randolph’s furious words snap across the line. Irritation takes hold. I wait a moment, breathe in then out, get a hold on my anger before I answer.
“Judging by the early hour and your tone, I’d say not okay.”
“Damn right!” Randolph’s voice vibrates with anger. “I trusted you, damn it, and this is how you repay me?”
I open one of the cabinet doors and reach for a mug. Whatever’s eating him will require a huge cup of coffee.
“Repay you how, Randolph?”
“You and Seraphina!”
I nearly drop the mug. Slowly, I lower it to the counter, turn and lean against it as the alarm takes hold, builds until it’s flowing through my veins like a flood.
“What are you talking about?” I keep my tone even, calm.
“The pictures are everywhere, Hawke. Both of you at the gala last night.”
I put Randolph on speaker and quickly pull up my news app.
I type in my name and three seconds later I see it.
Or rather them, as there are several photos of Seraphina and me next to the lake.
One is of us talking, Seraphina’s mouth twisted into a scowl beneath the mask.
The second is of her starting to walk past me.
But it’s the third that’s the most damning. My hands on her shoulders, my head lowered, her staring up at me from behind the mask. The headlines are just as bad, from Fire Dancer Seduces Billionaire Boss, to Playboy Financier’s Secret Affair with His Own Secretary!
I swear under my breath.
“Well, Hawke?”
Randolph’s voice fills the kitchen. Gone is the jovial grandfather figure who drank cocktails with me by the lake just a few hours ago. In his place is the hard-line CEO who wields considerable power and influence over this city, who brought me over a dozen new clients over the last few years.
If Randolph cuts ties with Hawke Financial, we’d survive. I’ve made enough wealthy people even wealthier that even if he were to intentionally try to ruin me, he’d fail.
New Field.
My hand tightens on my phone. I need Randolph. Yes, there are other ways of getting to New Field. But ways that will cost more time and don’t have near the same chance of success.
I stare down at Seraphina’s face. At her parted lips, the way her body leans in toward mine. A picture of secret lovers finally caught.
The answer is right in front of me. Not just the answer to potentially stop Randolph’s tirade in my ear, but to address his concerns from last night, to satisfy his obsession with monogamous commitment as I push him one step closer toward the New Field takeover.
Turning the tide of scandalous press and using it to my advantage will be an added bonus.
Resolution falls into place with the strength of tumblers in a lock.
I don’t like lying to Randolph, just like I don’t like the idea of a supposed engagement with the woman I’ve been fighting my attraction to for three years.
But my mother didn’t like working three jobs to keep a roof over our heads.
My brother didn’t like being sent to a prison that prioritized punishment over retribution.
If I’m truly going to have my revenge, it will require sacrifice.
Seraphina’s not going to be happy. But she cares about New Field. She’ll see reason. Even if she’s furious, I’ll write her a check so large it would pacify anyone.
I take my phone off speaker. Press it to my ear. Inhale deeply.
Then leap.
“Seraphina and I are engaged.”
Seraphina
The brisk knock on my door jerks me out of my meditative state. I curse as I teeter in Revolved Half-Moon Pose, then fall flat on my butt.
I sigh. I spent all night tossing and turning, memories of my near kiss with my boss and nightmares of being fired randomly jerking me out of sleep until I finally gave up around six.
I made myself a cup of tea, only to spill half of it across the counter as I read a text from Mona, the director of Grace’s Refuge.
The landlord had given them until next month to come up with the money.
But she was already anticipating having to temporarily shut down while they hunted for a new space.
After I cleaned up the tea, I rolled out my yoga mat and slipped into the one thing guaranteed to relax me.
The sequence of poses, monitoring my breathing, focusing on my body in the moment, all of it helped me in the months after the trial.
It was my first foray into regaining control of my body and my mind.
Apparently, the universe is going to deny me even that simple pleasure today.
Another knock, this one louder and more insistent, has me growling at the door.
“I’m coming!”
I stand up, hands fisted at my sides as I try to summon some kind of patience. I have no idea who is knocking on my door at seven in the morning on a freaking Sunday, but they better have a damn good reason for it.
I put my eye to the peephole…and nearly swallow my tongue.
Aiden’s there. Right outside my door.
“I know you’re there, Seraphina.”
I lean my forehead against the door. Heat burns away the last of my inner peace and replaces it with some of my sordid dreams from the night before. Dreams of Aiden actually kissing me, his hands cupping my breasts, undoing the ties of my top—
I swallow hard. Dreams. They were just dreams. And they’ll never be more than dreams. He’s probably here to demand an explanation, if not my resignation.
And if he does, I firmly tell myself, you’ll give it to him along with your best wishes to go to hell.
I’ve survived far worse things than unemployment. And if Aiden is truly going to hold me to such a ridiculous double standard given his past, then working for him is no longer a good fit for me anyway.
“Open the door, Seraphina.”
Slowly, I undo the lock and open the door. And scowl. I’m in a sports bra and leggings, my hair pulled up into the messiest of messy buns. Zero makeup, traces of sweat on my face.
And then there’s Aiden Hawke. Face freshly shaven, hair combed back from his broad forehead, sporting a gray blazer and matching pants with a crisp white shirt.
How the hell does the man look this put together on a weekend morning?
“Aid…” I clear my throat. “Good morning, Mr. Hawke.”
“Seraphina.”
He starts to move forward. I angle my body to block the doorway.
A move that sends a clear message that I have no interest in allowing him inside my apartment, but also has the unfortunate effect of bringing us within inches of each other.
I know his scent: smoky wood and spicy warmth.
But here, with me in a bra and leggings and him so close I can feel the heat of his body, his fragrance is earthier, more sensual.
My hand tightens on the doorframe. His gaze is fathomless, shadowed.
“May I come in?”
I suddenly feel very, very tired. I didn’t get home until past midnight. I tossed and turned for hours. And having my boss see me like that…