Chapter 5
Rylan leaned forward, the playful gleam in his dark eyes matching the smirk tugging at his lips. “I might be stalking you,” he teased, his voice low, rich, and threaded with amusement.
Natalie’s lips parted in a small, surprised “O,” and his gaze lingered. The lipstick she’d been wearing earlier had faded, leaving her lips bare, soft, and distractingly kissable.
“You’re not,” she countered, narrowing her eyes just slightly as her head tilted. Her voice was sweet and clear, but there was a glint of challenge there—a subtle spark that caught and held his interest. “You were already planning to stop for coffee.”
He couldn’t help the slow curve of his smile.
She was sharp. And wrong. He’d been on his way to a meeting when he’d seen her through the café window and told his driver to stop.
Truth was, he’d never set foot in a place like this—his coffee was usually brought to him by staff—but seeing her through the window had made him change his plans without a second thought.
“If we’re going to keep running into each other,” he said, letting his voice dip just enough to make it feel like a secret between them, “and I have a feeling we will… don’t you think we should introduce ourselves?” He extended a hand, his movements deliberate, confident. “I’m Rylan.”
She hesitated a beat—long enough to make him wonder—before sliding her hand into his. Her grip was firm, her skin soft, and he didn’t miss the faint hitch of her breath at the contact.
“I’m Natalie,” she said, her smile blooming, lighting her entire face.
“Natalie,” he repeated, letting the syllables roll off his tongue as if testing the sound. “What do you do, Natalie?”
What began as small talk soon flowed into an easy, unforced rhythm.
Rylan listened as she described her work as an interior designer, her eyes sparking when she spoke about transforming lifeless spaces into something beautiful and functional.
She didn’t just explain her process—she made him see it, her hands gesturing in the air, her voice carrying that mix of confidence and joy that drew him in.
“You must be busy,” he observed, watching the way she leaned forward without realizing it.
“Very,” she laughed softly. “But I love it. It’s rewarding to see a client’s face when they walk into a space that feels like it was made for them.” She paused, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, unaware of how the movement made his gaze follow her fingers. “What about you? What do you do?”
He leaned back, letting the question hang for a moment. “I’m working with civil engineers on a harbor project,” he said smoothly. Not untrue, though he left out the title, the reach, the weight of it. He liked that she looked at him without any of that in the way.
“That sounds fascinating,” she said, genuine curiosity in her tone. “Is it one of those big infrastructure projects I see on the news?”
“Something like that,” he replied, steering them back toward her. “But I’d rather know more about you. What do you do when you’re not designing?”
She hesitated, the faintest blush touching her cheeks. “You’re going to laugh.”
“Try me.” His voice softened, coaxing.
“Well… I love to read,” she admitted, her blush deepening. “Specifically, paranormal romance novels.” One of his brows lifted slightly. She hurried on. “It’s fantasy… with romance. Werewolves, vampires, that sort of thing.”
Rylan didn’t know the genre, but the way she stumbled over her words made his mouth curve. “So, you like stories about supernatural creatures falling in love?”
Her blush spread, but she laughed. “Pretty much. It’s a little silly, I know.”
“Not silly,” he countered, holding her gaze. “Especially if it makes you smile like that.”
She ducked her head, but her laughter bubbled up again—light, unguarded. He found himself wanting to hear it again, maybe to see if he could coax it out of her in other ways.
“Is that your guilty pleasure?” he teased, leaning in until the air between them seemed warmer.
“Maybe,” she said, her voice low now, the pink in her cheeks deepening.
Over the next hour, he learned that she hated broccoli, loved pizza and beer, and had taken ballet and piano lessons as a child.
Her laugh came easily, her voice soft but steady, and every time she leaned forward, his gaze swept over her without apology.
She was curvy in a way that made him think of slow hands and fewer clothes.
When her phone buzzed, her eyes widened as she caught sight of the time. “Good grief!” she breathed, more to herself than to him, before shoving the phone into her bag.
“What’s wrong?” His tone sharpened, the edge of command slipping in without his permission.
“I have to go!” she said, though the words didn’t quite match the hesitation in her movements. She began packing in a flurry, but when she looked up to slide the tote over her shoulder, her gaze lingered on him. Just a heartbeat too long.
It wasn’t the quick glance of politeness.
It was softer, almost reluctant—like she was memorizing him, holding the image for later.
The faintest curve touched her lips, not quite a smile, not quite goodbye, before she turned away.
“Thank you for a wonderful cup of coffee, Rylan,” she said, her tone almost a whisper.
He rose as she did, his height casting a long shadow across the table, unused to women leaving him mid-conversation.
She turned toward the door, pausing for a fraction of a second, as if she might turn back.
But instead she gave him a small wave over her shoulder, the movement tinged with something that felt like an unspoken promise, before stepping into the sunlight and disappearing from view.
A rare sense of regret tightened in his chest as he watched her SUV pull out of the lot.
From across the café, his bodyguards exchanged smirks—just enough to let him know they’d noticed.
He gave a slow shake of his head, the corner of his mouth tipping up in a faint, knowing curve.
Their quiet chuckles followed him as he strode past, neither side pretending they hadn’t read the moment the same way.
Sliding into the SUV, he turned to his Tom. “What do you know about her?”
The man relayed what little they’d found so far. Rylan wasn’t verifying—he was gathering. Because she was already in his head, and he wasn’t in the habit of leaving questions unanswered.
As the SUV merged into traffic, he leaned back, letting the corner of his mouth tilt in a faint smile. This was far from over.
Next time, she wouldn’t get away so easily.