Page 30 of Steel Beauty

“It does.”

For a moment, there’s a subtle shift in his expression—not quite jealousy but maybe something closer to him sizing up the competition. Except there isn’t any competition. And even if there were, it wouldn’t matter. Not really. Because after tonight, I won’t be seeing Caesar again.

That thought settles heavy in my chest, unexpected and unwelcome. The idea of this being the last time I’ll feel his gaze, hear his smooth, warm voice, or see that teasing smile—it stings more than I’d like to admit. I didn’t come here looking for this, yet the idea of letting it go feels… wrong.

The song “If You Leave” by Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark drifts through the air, wrapping around us like a bittersweet promise. I draw in a steadying breath, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “I called my best friend when I got back to the hotel last night. She reminded me why seeing you isn’t a good idea.”

He doesn’t respond, his dark eyes fixed on mine, his expression unreadable.

“I’d lose my job if anyone found out. And I can’t lose my job.”

His hand moves gently, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. The simple gesture sends a shiver down my spine, unraveling my resolve a little.

“Go on,” he says, calm and steady, his words almost daring me to finish.

I lay out every reason, stacking them like armor to resist the pull I feel toward him. “There’s my job, the boundaries I can’t cross, and the reality that you live here while I live halfway across the world.” I shake my head, forcing myself to hold firm, determined to do what I know is right. “I’m only in Australia for three months. Anything we started would end before it even had a chance.”

He leans in slightly, his dark eyes steady on mine, the intensity in his gaze making it impossible to look away. But he doesn’t say a word. He just listens.

“You’re looking for a wife. That’s what this whole process is about—you finding someone to marry. I’m not looking for a husband. I’d only be in your way, keeping you from finding someone who wants the same things you want.”

I pause, searching his face for any hint of a reaction, but his expression remains unreadable. “Marriage is not in the cards for me right now.”

His jaw tightens briefly before he exhales slowly, giving a single nod. “That’s not what I wanted to hear, but I understand. If that’s what you’ve decided, I’ll respect it.”

He glances down, his thoughts clearly weighing on him, before lifting his eyes to meet mine again. His words come softer now. “Can I at least walk you back to your hotel and make sure you get there safely?”

I nod, my chest tight with a mix of gratitude and heartbreak. “Yeah, I’d like that very much.”

I gesture toward the hallway leading to the restrooms. “I need to stop by the ladies’ room first.”

Inside, I catch my reflection in the mirror, resting my hands on the cool edge of the sink. The song playing softly through the speakers makes me freeze—“Fire” by the Pointer Sisters. A bitter laugh slips out. Could there be a more fitting song for this moment?

Whoever picked this playlist is absolutely on point tonight.

I take a deep breath, filling my lungs, and then slowly let it out. I didn’t want to tell him I could never see him again. I didn’t want to say any of it.

What I want—what Ireallywant—is to walk back out there, look him in the eye, and tell him I was wrong. That we should see where this goes, give in to the fire that ignites inside me every time I’m near him.

But I can’t. It’s not possible. Not in this world, not in this moment.

The ache in my chest tightens as I push away from the sink and head back to the bar. When I step out, he’s still there, finishing the last of his drink.

He sees me approaching and, without a word, grabs his jacket. In one fluid motion, he drapes it over my shoulders. The fabric is heavy and warm, wrapping around me like a cocoon. It smells like him—dark and woodsy with a hint of spice, a scent so distinctlyhimit feels like an embrace.

“The breeze off the water is cold this time of night.”

I look up at him, my words barely more than a whisper. “Thank you.”

The walk back to the hotel is quiet, the night air definitely cooler than it was when I walked from the hotel to the Rabbit Hole. I pull his jacket tighter around my shoulders, the warmth of it a welcome comfort against the chill.

“Has your stay at the hotel been all right so far?”

I glance up at him with a small smile. “It’s been excellent.”

“Is there anything I can get for you?” The sincerity in his words is unmistakable.

I shake my head. “No, everything’s been spectacular.” And it has been.

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