She was there.
Halfway down the staircase, framed in light from an open door above, her silhouette paused. One foot hovered above the next step, frozen mid-motion, as if her entire body had locked.
Their eyes met.
The impact was instant.
Theo felt the breath slam from his chest.
Her eyes—God, those eyes—dark sapphire and brimming with everything she hadn’t said two weeks ago. Hurt. Surprise. And vulnerability so raw it twisted something deep in his gut.
For a second, neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke.
He could hear her breath, quick and shallow. Could see her knuckles go white where she gripped the stair rail. She lowered her eyelashes, concealing her emotions, shielding them behind a mask of calm.
He didn’t like that. He didn’t like to see any part of her hidden away from him.
She tried to retreat, but he’d already seen what he needed to know—that fraction of a second of awareness, desire… need. She had been as affected by him as he had been by her.
He took a step up, slow, cautious, as if he were approaching a wounded animal. He continued until they were level—nearly eye-to-eye. The narrow stairwell left no room for posturing, no place to hide.
She lifted her chin.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” she said in a low voice that was cool and composed. “This area is for employees only.”
He didn’t answer.
He couldn’t.
All he could think about was the shape of her mouth. The taste of her kiss. The way the world had narrowed to a single breathless moment—and then fractured.
He swallowed and searched her face. “I had to see you again.”
Her eyes flickered with emotion again before she shrugged.
“Well, you’ve seen me. I guess you can check that off your to-do list. You need to return to your seat. Only authorized personnel—which you aren’t—are allowed in this area, for safety,” she said, shifting up a step.
He reached out—gently—and cupped her hand.
He didn’t tighten his grip.
But his touch was enough to make her pause.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low and rough. “About that night. About what you saw.”
She said nothing. She didn’t deny that she had witnessed Allegra kissing him.
“Allegra’s an old friend of my family,” he continued. “She caught me off guard. I didn’t want or invite her kiss.”
Something flickered behind her eyelashes. Doubt. Hope. Confusion.
She tried to pull her hand free, but his thumb stroked softly across her knuckles, and she stilled.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said finally, looking away. “You kissed me. You kissed her. I’m sure you’ve kissed a lot of women. It was just a kiss. One kiss. Not a big deal.”
“It was—for me,” he said, lifting his free hand and letting it hover by her cheek before his fingers traced the curve of her jaw, the soft angle of her face. “It mattered.”
She shook her head, but he could see the tremble in her lips. “Be real. You don’t even know me.”