Page 100 of Captured Heart

It’s a jab, a valid one, but one I take in my stride. “It’s not that I’m reckless, and I haven’t stopped being vigilant, but...” I shrug. “...it just got to a point where I was tired of living in fear.”

He nods because he understands what it’s like to live a life like that. It’s not living at all. “So...what are you doing for the rest of the afternoon?”

“I’m at a team-building thing for work.” I wave vaguely toward the venue a few blocks down the street. “Or at least I’m supposed to be. It started again about ten minutes ago.”

“Skip it,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious solution in the world. “Hang out with me for a bit.”

I arch a brow, crossing my arms over my chest. “I see not everything has changed. You’re still in the habit of demanding and just assuming people will do what you want.”

“Is that a no?”

Challenge flickers in his voice, daring me to push back. But I don’t take the bait. If he still has that annoying trait of accepting rejection without exception, I’m not risking anything just to be difficult. Still, some common courtesy wouldn’t kill him. “Ask me nicely.”

It wasn’t intentional, but the second those words leave my mouth, the playful banter comes to a screeching halt. Fervent tension settles over us. It’s like I just pulled the pin from a grenade, and now we’re both just waiting for the detonation.

His eyes blaze, a storm of fiery lust and longing. Memories swirl to the surface, so raw and unexpected that I have to bite my lip to stop a moan. I know exactly what he’s thinking about because I’m thinking about it, too. The images flash through mymind at a rapid, relentless pace. Us in that room. Him on that chair. His bound hands wrapped tightly around me as I bounced on his cock. I can almost hear his ragged groans against my ear.

The silence stretches on between us as we stare wordlessly at each other. For a man who’s always had a vice grip on his expressions, it’s jarring to see that mask drop so suddenly. He can’t hide the effect I have on him. It’s there. Written on his face. Etched in his body language. Salacious eyes lock on mine, his gaze so hot I almost melt into a puddle on the floor.

It doesn’t last long, though. He looks away, the vein on the side of his neck ticking as he draws in a long, deliberate breath to suppress whatever it is he’s feeling.

His hands clench into tight fists, and when his gaze swings back to me, it’s there again, that grin. Wide, cocky, dangerous.

“Please,” he says, his voice low and laced with enough heat to make my stomach do another ridiculous somersault.

I clear my throat. “Okay.”

We start walking, but there’s no mistaking it. He’s still vibrating with tension, still fighting the detonation.

We go down the street to a café and settle into a booth, the kind with dim lighting and mismatched furniture that makes you feel like you’re in someone’s living room. Alex sips his coffee, his gaze flicking to mine every so often. The air between us feels charged, as if every word spoken could send sparks flying.

“So,” he starts, leaning back as he rests his arm casually over the back of the seat. “Boston, huh? Big move from California.”

I shrug, stirring my iced coffee even though it doesn’t need it. “Yeah, it was time for a change. Plus, I got this amazing opportunity with the research center here. It wasn’t exactly something I could pass up.”

His brow arches. “Research center? Sounds...nerdy. Are you enjoying it there?”

“Of course.” I launch into an explanation about my work, my passion reigniting as I describe the project. “I’m not sure if you remember, but I started researching enzyme inhibitors back in university. We focused on how they could slow cancer cell proliferation by targeting specific pathways. The findings were promising. Groundbreaking, actually. And that’s what caught the attention of the Adler Research Institute. They brought me on to continue the work.”

I pause, trying to sound calm despite the excitement pumping through my veins. And the adrenaline is not because of the topic of conversation. It’s because of the way he’s looking at me, watching every movement of my lips.

“So, what are you working on?” he asks.

“Now, we’re developing ways to make those inhibitors more precise, targeting malignant cells while leaving healthy ones untouched. It’s like designing microscopic keys that fit only the locks we need them to, reducing side effects and increasing the efficacy of treatment.”

He listens intently, his head slightly tilted, nodding in all the right places. It’s such a simple thing, but it throws me off. Most people, Michael included, zone out when I talk about anything work-related. Not Alex. He looks at me like I’m the most interesting person in the room.

“And that’s why Boston,” I finish, slightly breathless.

“Not bad, Rebel.” He uses the nickname like it’s second nature. “You’re doing good. Better than good, actually.”

His praise warms me from the inside out. “What about you? What’ve you been up to?”

His smirk fades, replaced by a shrug. “Nothing as groundbreaking as saving lives. I’ve been keeping my head down, staying under the radar. I just opened a new repair shop. And when I say new, I meannew. No customers yet, but it’ll pick up. I already have contracts with a few local dealershipsto handle their overflow work, and there’s a racing garage a few towns over that’s interested in partnering up. Classic restorations, custom jobs. The kind of work I actuallywantto do.”

I can hear the pride in his voice, even if he tries to downplay it. “That’s amazing, Alex. I’m really happy for you. I’m glad you...you know, turned things around.”

“Yeah...and it’s all because of you. I never would have had any of this if it weren’t for you. They took me out of that courtroom so fast, I never got to say thank you.” His eyes meet mine and there’s nothing but sincerity. “So, thank you, Katie. You gave me a clean slate and a second chance at life. I can never repay you for what you did for me.”

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