Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Isla
The emerald silk whispers against my skin as I step onto APEX’s rooftop terrace. Manhattan’s lights stretch below like scattered diamonds on black velvet. Eli stands at the railing, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the skyline, a living sculpture carved against darkness.
He turns.
His eyes find me instantly, as though he sensed me before he heard me. The intensity in his gaze steals my breath—recognition, hunger, memory.
“You wore it.”
Three syllables. Rough-edged. Dangerous.
“It was this or my construction gear.” I aim for lightness, but my voice betrays me—too soft, too breathless.
His eyes track my movement as I approach. Cataloging. Remembering.
“You look beautiful in both.” His hand brushes my lower back as he guides me to our corner table, the touch burning through silk. “Though I admit, the dress brings back... interesting memories.”
Heat crawls up my neck. His eyes catch it, following the flush with deliberate attention.
“I thought this was strictly business, Mr. Alderidge.”
“Is that what you want?” He pulls out my chair, leaning close enough that I catch his familiar scent—sandalwood and coffee. His lips nearly brush my ear. “Because we can discuss supplier contracts all evening. Or...”
“Or?” The word escapes, embarrassingly breathless.
His lips curve as he takes his seat across from me, the movement predatory.
“Or we can admit this was never going to be just business.”
The Artisan Hotel looms in the distance, its skeletal structure glowing softly in the twilight.
A constant reminder of everything at stake—the project, Drake’s investigation, Eli’s safety.
But here, with candlelight dancing across his face and years of longing between us, professional distance feels impossible.
“Wine?” he asks, already signaling the sommelier. “They have that Bordeaux you love.”
My chest tightens. “You remember my wine preference?”
“I remember everything about you, Isla.” His eyes hold mine, refusing to let go. “Including how you bite your lip when you’re keeping secrets.”
Like now. Guilt twists in my stomach as I force my teeth to release my bottom lip.
“Eli—”
“You don’t have to tell me.” He reaches across the table, his fingers brushing mine. “Not yet. Tonight, I just want...”
“What?” My skin tingles where he touches me, a current running between us.
“To remember what it feels like to be us. No project, no family legacy, no complications. Just us.”
The simplicity of his request undoes me.
Because under the weight of Ethics Committee meetings and sabotage attempts and Drake’s warnings, I’ve forgotten too.
Forgotten how easy it once was to lose myself in his blue eyes.
How safe I felt in his arms. How perfectly we fit before duty and secrets tore us apart.
“Just us,” I whisper, turning my hand to lace our fingers together. “I think I’d like that.”
His thumb traces patterns on my palm, and my carefully constructed walls begin to crumble.
The sommelier appears with our wine, and I’m grateful for the moment to collect myself. Eli orders without looking at the menu, his confidence both irritating and attractive. When we’re alone again, he raises his glass.
“To second chances?”
The hope in his voice makes my heart ache.
“To second chances,” I echo, clinking my glass with his.
The wine is exactly as I remember—rich and complex, like the man watching me over its rim.
“You know,” he says, setting down his glass, “I drove past your old apartment last week.”
“The walk-up in Chelsea?”
“Where you used to sketch on the fire escape.” His expression softens with memory. “I’d bring coffee at midnight, and you’d show me your latest sustainable design innovations.”
“Until Mrs. Rodriguez from 3B would yell at us for making too much noise.” The laugh bubbles up before I can stop it. “God, we were so young.”
“Young enough to think we could change the world with green technology and good intentions.”
“And now?” I can’t help asking.
“Now I know it takes more than that.” His eyes drift to the construction site. “It takes trust. Partnership. The courage to face hard truths together.”
The weight of Drake’s investigation presses against my chest.
“Eli—”
“Dance with me.” He stands suddenly, holding out his hand as soft jazz drifts from hidden speakers.
“Here? Now?”
“Why not?”
My pulse jumps as I glance toward the skyline, searching for an anchor. This was always our problem—Eli makes me forget everything else. Forget boundaries. Forget logic. Forget that I’m supposed to be keeping secrets, not falling into his arms.
“We’re already breaking all our professional rules.”
His smile turns wicked. “Unless you’re afraid, Ms. Carrington?”
“You really need to stop using that line.” But I’m already standing, drawn to him like gravity.
His arm slides around my waist, pulling me close. The heat of his body seeps through my silk dress, awakening memories I’ve tried so hard to forget. We sway slowly, and I rest my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
“I missed this,” he murmurs into my hair. “Missed you. Even when I tried to convince myself I didn’t.”
“Eli...” My voice breaks on his name.
His hand spreads across my lower back, protective and possessive.
“Tell me you didn’t miss us too.”
Instead of answering, I lift my head, meeting his gaze. The longing I see there mirrors my own, and suddenly the space between us feels unbearable. His eyes drop to my lips, and I know we’re both remembering our last kiss in the rain at the construction site.
I should walk away. Take the win of one stolen dance and keep my head clear. But Eli is looking at me like I’m something sacred, something precious, and for once, I don’t want to be careful.
“Your place or mine?” The words slip out before I can stop them.
His breath catches. The hand on my back tightens imperceptibly.
“Are you sure?”
No, I’m not sure of anything except the way my body hums wherever he touches me. But tonight, I don’t want to be sure. I want to be reckless and real and completely his.
“Yes.”
His kiss tastes like wine and promise and years of waiting, and I know we’re past the point of no return.
The elevator ride to his penthouse is silent, electric with anticipation. Eli’s hand rests on my lower back as we step into his private foyer, the touch both steadying and dangerous. The lights of Manhattan sparkle through floor-to-ceiling windows, but I can’t look away from him.
“Would you like a—” he starts, ever the gentleman.
“No.” I step closer, heart racing. “No more drinks, no more small talk. Just...”
His hands frame my face, thumbs brushing my cheekbones. “Just us?”
“Just us.”
The first kiss is gentle, almost reverent.
His lips brush mine like he’s afraid I’ll disappear, and something in my chest breaks open.
I press closer, fingers curling into his shirt, and feel his control snap.
The next kiss is hungry, desperate, five years of longing poured into the way his mouth claims mine.
“Isla,” he breathes against my lips. “Tell me to stop.”
“I can’t.” I pull back just enough to meet his gaze. “I don’t want to.”
His forehead rests against mine, breath uneven.
“We should talk about?—”
“Tomorrow.” I reach for his tie, needing him closer. “We can talk tomorrow.”
He catches my hands, pressing kisses to my palms.
“Look at me.”
I do, drowning in the intensity of his blue eyes.
“I need you to be sure,” he says roughly. “Because if we do this, if I let myself have you again...” His jaw clenches. “I won’t be able to go back to pretending we’re just colleagues.”
The raw honesty in his voice undoes me.
“I haven’t been pretending very well anyway.”
His laugh is shaky. “No, you haven’t.” His fingers trace the neckline of my dress, leaving fire in their wake. “This dress has been driving me crazy all night.”
“I know.” I arch into his touch. “Why do you think I wore it?”
“Tease.” But his smile fades as he studies my face. “You’re so beautiful it hurts.”
The vulnerability in his voice makes my eyes sting. I reach up, tracing the worry line between his brows.
“Stop thinking so hard.”
“I can’t help it.” His hands settle on my hips, pulling me flush against him. “I keep waiting to wake up.”
“Not a dream.” I press a kiss to his jaw, feeling his pulse jump. “I’m here. I’m real. I?—“
His mouth captures mine again, and this time there’s nothing gentle about it. He walks me backward until I hit the wall, one hand tangling in my hair while the other slides down my thigh. I gasp as he finds the slit in my dress, fingers skimming bare skin.
“Tell me what you want,” he demands against my throat.
“You.” The word comes out breathless. “Just you.”
Eli draws back, his eyes searching mine in the city-lit darkness. The moment stretches between us, heavy with everything unsaid. His hand comes up to cup my cheek, and I turn into his touch, letting myself be vulnerable in a way I haven’t in years.
“Stay with me,” he whispers, the words carrying more weight than just tonight.
I reach up, running my fingers through his hair.
“I’m not running this time.”
His smile is tender as he lifts me into his arms. I wrap my arms around his neck, breathing in his scent—coffee and sandalwood—as he carries me down the hall. City lights paint shadows across his face, catching the new lines around his eyes, marking the years we’ve lost.
“What are you thinking?” he asks.
“That I missed watching the sunset from your windows.” I trace his jaw. “That you still take your coffee too strong. That some things change, and some things...”
“Stay the same?” He carries me into his bedroom, the massive bed waiting in the darkness. Setting me on my feet beside it, he keeps me close, one hand warm on my back.
“Yeah.” My voice catches as he brushes hair from my face. “Like how you still look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m something precious you’re afraid to lose.”
His breath hitches. “Because you are.” He presses his forehead to mine. “God, Isla, you have no idea?—”
“I do.” I cup his face in my hands. “I do know.”
“No.” His voice is rough as his hands slide into my hair. “You don’t know what losing you did to me. What these five years have been like.” His thumb traces my bottom lip. “I won’t survive letting you go again.”
The raw honesty in his voice steals my breath. “Eli?—”
His eyes hold mine, intense and determined.
“I know we have things to figure out. I know there are complications. But tonight...” He draws me closer, until I can feel his heart pounding against mine. “Tonight I need you to be sure.”
His fingers tangle in my hair, tipping my face up to his. “Be very sure about this, Isla.” His voice is rough, commanding. “Because once I have you back in my bed, there’s no walking away. Not again.”
This is reckless. This is dangerous. This is exactly what I swore I wouldn’t do. But as I look into Eli’s eyes, I know I can’t stop now. The past, the secrets, the risks—they’ll all still be there tomorrow. But tonight?
“Yes,” I whisper. “Yes to all of it.”