Page 57 of Tempted By Eden

Chapter thirty

James

“You ready for tonight?”Dameon barges into my office at four o’clock, his grin so wide that I want nothing more than to wipe it off his face. He knows everything that went down two weeks ago—the standoff with Cora at Eden and the call from the police station. He’s been enjoying this far too much.

I exhale heavily, reclining in my chair and pinching the bridge of my nose. “Honestly… no.”

He sniggers. Of course he’s eating this up. Over the last couple of weeks, he’s been the one working closely with Cora on tonight’s gala—Hayes & Hayward Media’s first company-wide event, the final step in her grand strategy to overhaul our corporate culture. The fact that he’s been the one at her side irritates me more than it should.

“Have you spoken to her?”

I glare at him. “You know I haven’t.”

Two weeks. Two agonizing weeks without hearing her laugh, without feeling her presence. I’ve seen her in passing—usually with Dameon—but she’s been avoiding me, and I haven’t exactly gone out of my way to fix that. I’m still pissed about her reckless behavior that night.How could she put herself at risk like that?That whole night was a clusterfuck—her working Le Jardin and refusing to acknowledge her feelings, then getting blind drunk and endangering herself and her colleague.

No one has ever made me feel the way Cora does—out of control, like I’m on a rollercoaster with no brakes. One minute I’m furious, the next I can’t stop thinking about how much I need her. It’s maddening.

Dameon laughs, shaking his head. “God, I’m loving this.”

I narrow my eyes. “Eat shit, dickhead. Your time will come. When you meet a woman who turns your life upside down, I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”

“Nope, not gonna happen.” He backs toward the door. “I’ll see you at seven.”

***

I arrive at the Crest Hotel at seven-thirty, intentionally late to annoy Dameon. The gala is already in full swing, and I have to admit—the place looks incredible. Cora’s done a fantastic job. The room is decked out with elaborate floral arrangements, waiters roam with platters of finger food, and there’s a live band playing in the corner.

I scan the crowd, my eyes searching the sea of suits and dresses, but she’s nowhere to be seen. Forcing a polite smile, I nod at a few familiar faces.

The sleek fabric of my Tom Ford suit fits like a second skin, every detail tailored to perfection. As I move through the room, I can feel the glances from the women and jealous stares from the men. But I keep my focus forward, letting their attention roll off me like water.

After a few minutes, I get trapped by Roger, our CFO, who launches into a long-winded story about his grandkids. I nod along, pretending that I give a flying fuck, but my attention is on sweeping the room.

And then I see her.

My jaw drops. She’s standing near the bar, a vision in sapphire, her gown hugging her body perfectly, her hair flowing down her back. The sight of her steals the breath from my lungs. I hadn’t realized how much I missed seeing her like this—radiant, effortless, and utterly captivating. She’s with a group of colleagues, smiling at something one of them said. It’s only then that I see Nathan standing close to her. Too close. His hand rests on the small of her back.

A low growl escapes my throat before I can stop it.

I excuse myself abruptly from Roger, who looks startled by my sudden exit, but I don’t give a fuck. My focus narrows, zeroing in on Cora and the way Nathan’s hand lingers on her.

By the time I reach them, Nathan has spotted me and pulled his hand away, but the damage is done.

Cora looks up at me, surprised. Her gaze drifts over my suit, and a faint blush rises in her cheeks.

Good. She likes what she sees.

“Good evening,” I say coolly. “Would you excuse Cora for a moment?”

The group falls silent, exchanging glances. Cora narrows her eyes at me, clearly unimpressed, but steps away and follows me down a quiet hallway, away from prying eyes. We stop in a secluded alcove just past the bathrooms, the noise of the party fading behind us.

When I turn to face her, my muscles tense, my pulse drumming in my ears.

“What are you doing?” she asks, crossing her arms. “That was completely obvious. Now they’re going to think something’s going on between us.”

“I don’t give a shit what they think,” I snap, stepping closer. “Nathan was practically fondling your ass in front of the entire office. That’s not obvious?”

Her eyes flare. “He’s just a friend, James.”

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