Chapter 29 #2
To the way she’d been on the beach, open and vulnerable and trusting in a way that made something in his heart ache.
To the scent of her shampoo—something floral and clean—that he’d caught when the breeze shifted.
To the sarcastic wit that could defuse tension with a single well-timed quip, and the underlying strength that carried her through circumstances that would break most people.
To the possibility—terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure—that maybe, just maybe, there was something between them that went beyond professional courtesy or situational proximity.
If he had any courage of the emotional variety—which, admittedly, resembled a vaporware beta version, full of bugs and missing critical features—he’d go back down to the beach right now, lay the tablet at her sandy feet, and confess that he wasn’t scared of this saboteur.
He was scared of her.
Not because she was a threat. Because she wasn’t. Because she was real and human and alive in a way that his digital world would never be. Because when he was with Lena, shielding the entire operation from collapse was no longer the most important thing he had to do.
And that terrified him more than any firewall breach.
Because if he allowed himself to care—not the abstract concern he held for all Ivory Tower employees, but the deep, personal, terrifying kind of caring that kept you up at night and made you stupid and reckless—then he’d have another vulnerability.
Another point of failure. Another weakness that could be exploited, damaged, or destroyed.
Another person he might let down.
David started walking back toward the main resort building, his sandals crunching on the shell path with a rhythm that seemed too loud in the quiet night.
The security lights cast pools of illumination along the walkway, creating pockets of brightness separated by stretches of shadow.
He moved through them mechanically, his body on autopilot while his mind spun in increasingly anxious circles.
The code fragment sat in his tablet like a ticking bomb.
Evidence of who was behind this. Or at least leads to evidence.
But would it be enough? And would he be able to focus on analyzing it when his mind kept drifting to a sassy blonde with turquoise eyes who made him feel things he’d avoided for years?
He pulled out his phone with his free hand, thumb hovering over Zach’s contact. He should call his brother. Report the breach. Get the security protocols updated.
But he opened his recent messages, scrolling to Lena’s name. No texts waiting. Of course not—he’d left her barely twenty minutes ago, and not under circumstances that invited friendly follow-up messages.
‘I’m sorry I ran off,’ he typed, then deleted it. Too casual.
‘The breach was serious, but I have a lead,’ he tried next. True, but cold. Clinical. It sounded like he was more interested in computers than people.
‘I wanted to stay,’ his fingers spelled out, and that was the most honest thing he’d written in weeks.
But he couldn’t send it. Couldn’t lay himself bare like that, not via text message, not when she probably thought he was a flake who couldn’t finish a simple romantic moment without getting distracted by work.
He deleted the message and pocketed the phone.
The rational thing to do was to focus on the threat.
Someone was systematically attacking Ivory Sands, escalating from nuisance to genuine danger.
The watermaker damage alone could have been catastrophic.
And now they were targeting the power systems, which meant every guest and employee on the island was potentially at risk.
That should be his only priority. Find the saboteur. Protect the resort. Keep his family’s legacy safe.
But god help him, all he could think about was the way Lena had looked at him in the moonlight, like he was more than a tech guy, more than the CTO with a tablet fused to his hand. She’d looked at him like he was someone worth knowing. Worth trusting.
Worth kissing.
David stopped walking, standing still between pools of light, and made a decision that had nothing to do with logic and everything to do with the unfamiliar territory of his heart.
After he briefed Zach, after he secured the systems and updated the protocols and did all the responsible things his position required, he would find Lena.
And he would be honest with her. About the investigation, yes, but also about the rest of it.
About how she made him feel, about the strange amplification effect he couldn’t explain, about the fact that walking away from her tonight was one of the hardest things he’d ever done.
And then, if she didn’t laugh in his face or tell him to take his hot-nerd routine elsewhere, he would kiss her the way he wished he had on the beach.
The decision settled something in his chest, eased the anxious spinning of his thoughts enough to breathe normally again. He started walking, his pace quicker now, purpose driving each step.
First things first. Catch a saboteur.
Then—god willing and if he didn’t screw it up—catch a certain platinum blonde front office manager before she decided he was more trouble than he was worth.
The tablet pulsed warm against his palm, the code fragment awaiting analysis, secrets waiting to be unraveled. But for the first time in his professional career, David Jones wasn’t thinking about digital mysteries.
He was thinking about the human one. And wondering if she was thinking about him too.