Page 20 of Ardent Desires

She leans in, close enough that I can feel the heat from her body. Her shoulder brushes mine as she scans the list, and I swear to God, I forget how to breathe for a second. The warmth of her skin, the closeness—it’s a fucking distraction, one I didn’t prepare for.

She hands me the phone back, nodding. “Anything I should know before we go in?”

I clear my throat again, trying to shake off the haze. “Just remember, our luxury resort idea is confidential. We’re here to learn, see what the competition is doing, but we can’t tip our hand.”

“Got it,” she says, her voice firm, professional. But when I look at her, I can’t help but see the way that dress clings to her, the way those red lips are begging to be kissed again.

The driver’s voice comes over the intercom. “We’re here, Mr. Blackwood.”

I glance out the window, and sure enough, the venue is packed. Cars pulling up one after another, people in suits and dresses milling around the entrance.

I turn to her, forcing a calm smile. “Ready?”

She nods, her red lips parting slightly as she takes a breath. “Ready.”

I step out first, then offer her my hand as she steps out of the car. The second she’s by my side, the heat between us flares again, the same heat that’s been simmering since that nightoutside her building. I adjust my suit jacket, trying to pull myself together. We have a job to do. I can’t let this get to me.

But as we walk toward the entrance, side by side, the only thing I can think about is how close she is. How much I want to touch her. How badly I want to do everything but stay professional.

Chapter five

Jealousy Unleashed

Ellie

This room is insane. Everywhere I look, it’s like I’m scrolling through some billionaire Instagram feed. Men and women I’ve only ever seen in magazines, people who have entireempiresunder their control, and here I am, standing among them. My best friend Jenna wouldlovethis kind of networking event—she’d be working the room, charming her way into every conversation.

I, on the other hand, feel like I’m about to melt into a puddle. My throat is tight, my chest heavy, but then I feel it—Alexander’s hand, warm against the small of my back, grounding me.

“Breathe, Ellie,” he says softly, his lips brushing close to my ear. “You’re here with me.”

I take a deep breath, letting his words settle in. Right. I’m herewith him. I’m not just some nobody wandering through the party. I have a reason to be here, next to him.

We’re offered champagne by a passing waiter, and I take a glass, my fingers trembling just slightly. Alexander doesn’t seem affected by the sheer magnitude of wealth in the room. He’scompletely at ease, his suit immaculate, like he belongs here, like heownsthe place. And maybe he does, in a way.

“We need to network,” he says, his voice low and authoritative. “Let’s start with the mayor.”

Themayor. Okay. Sure. My voice comes out strangled. “Okay.”

His hand stays firm on my back as we walk across the room, and with each step, I try to calm myself.I can do this. I’m here with him.And God, the way his touch grounds me—it’s like all the noise fades and I’m left with this quiet confidence.

We stop in front of the mayor, a man who looks more polished than any politician I’ve ever seen in person, and Alexander introduces us.

“Mayor Samuels, this is Ellie Sanders, my business partner.”

I nearly choke on my champagne.Business partner? Not assistant? My eyes flick to Alexander, but he’s already moved on, shaking hands with the mayor like it’s nothing, like he hasn’t just turned my world upside down with a single introduction.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I manage, my voice stronger than I expected.

The mayor nods, giving me a warm smile. “Likewise, Ms. Sanders. Alexander here has spoken highly of you.”

He has?I’m shocked, but I keep it together, nodding like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

We talk for a few minutes, well—theytalk, and I nod along, trying not to get lost in the flow of business lingo. I’m just starting to relax when a sandy-blonde man walks up, his gray eyes scanning the room with an intensity I can’t place. There’s something about him that makes me stiffen before he even speaks.

“Xander,” the man says, his voice carrying a hint of an accent I can’t quite pin down—Australian? British? Maybe a mix. Either way, it’s unsettling.

Alexander’s entire body tenses next to me. “West,” he says flatly, his voice colder than I’ve ever heard it.

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