10- Too Close to Him

Elena made it halfway down the staircase before she realized she was being followed.

She didn’t need to turn around.

The measured footsteps behind her were unmistakable.

“Is there a reason you’re following me, Mr. Vance?”

“Where are you going?”

“Out.”

“That isn’t a destination.”

She stopped on the last step and turned.

Kaysen stood two steps above her, one hand resting on the railing. He had removed his jacket, and the sleeves of his black shirt were folded neatly to his forearms.

His expression was as cold as ever.

“I’m going for a walk.”

“Not alone.”

Elena stared at him.

“I’m sorry. Was that a request?”

“No.”

He descended the last two steps.

“Get your coat.”

She let out a disbelieving laugh.

“You cannot possibly be serious.”

“I’m always serious when I repeat myself.”

“I don’t remember asking you to come with me.”

“You didn’t.”

“Then perhaps you should stay here.”

His gaze settled on her face.

“Perhaps you should stop confusing what you want with what’s sensible.”

She felt her temper flare.

“And perhaps you should learn that not every decision in my life requires your approval.”

For a moment, he said nothing.

Then he reached past her and opened the front door.

Cold evening air swept into the entrance hall.

“Your coat, Elena.”

She hated that he used her name only when he wanted her attention.

She hated more that it worked.

“Fine,” she muttered, turning toward the coatroom. “But if you intend to lecture me for the entire walk, I’ll leave you talking to yourself.”

“I’ll risk it.”

⸻

The gardens were almost empty.

Rain had fallen earlier, leaving the stone paths slick beneath the dim lights. Elena walked ahead deliberately, refusing to adjust her pace to his longer stride.

Kaysen let her.

For nearly a minute, neither spoke.

Then she reached the narrow path beside the fountain.

Her heel slipped.

She caught the stone railing before she fell, but the sudden movement sent a sharp pain through her bandaged palm.

“Damn it.”

Kaysen was beside her before she could straighten.

“Let me see.”

“It’s fine.”

He took her wrist.

Not roughly, but with enough certainty that she stopped trying to hide her hand.

“That’s the second time you’ve said that when it clearly isn’t.”

His thumb rested just below the bandage as he turned her hand toward the light.

Elena became acutely aware of how close he was.

His shoulder almost touched hers. His fingers enclosed her wrist, warm against her chilled skin. The scent of his cologne mingled with the damp air.

“It’s a scratch,” she said.

“Then you won’t mind if I check it.”

He loosened the edge of the bandage with careful fingers.

She watched his hands rather than his face.

That was a mistake.

His hands were steady, precise, and unexpectedly gentle. The same hands that signed contracts capable of changing people’s lives were now holding her wrist as though the smallest careless movement mattered.

“You can stop looking at my hand like it’s a business report,” she muttered.

His eyes lifted.

“Would you prefer I ignore it?”

“No.”

“Then be quiet for a moment.”

Her mouth fell open.

He looked back at the bandage.

And somehow, the dismissal made her more conscious of him than an argument would have.

He adjusted the dressing and released her wrist.

“Don’t put pressure on it.”

She pulled her hand back against her chest.

“Are you finished giving orders?”

“For the moment.”

She started walking again.

He followed.

A few steps later, she glanced at him.

“You know, most people would have asked whether I wanted company.”

“Most people weren’t following you into the garden after dark.”

“Because most people understand the concept of personal space.”

Kaysen stopped.

Elena took two more steps before realizing he wasn’t beside her anymore.

She turned.

He stood beneath one of the garden lights, watching her.

“Come here.”

Her stomach tightened.

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

She gave him a sharp look.

“That’s not a reason.”

“No.” His gaze held hers. “It’s an instruction.”

For a moment, she considered refusing simply to prove she could.

Then she noticed the dark shape moving beyond the iron fence.

A figure stood near the side gate, partially concealed by the trees.

Before she could make out a face, Kaysen’s expression changed.

“Behind me.”

His voice was quiet, but there was nothing negotiable about it.

“What—”

“Now, Elena.”

She moved before she had time to argue.

He stepped between her and the gate, pulled out his phone, and spoke into it without taking his eyes off the figure.

“North garden. Side gate. Now.”

The figure moved.

A second later, a security light flooded the path.

The stranger turned and disappeared beyond the fence.

Kaysen caught Elena lightly by the upper arm as she instinctively stepped forward.

“Don’t.”

She stopped.

His hand remained on her arm for one brief moment before he released her.

Two guards hurried toward the gate.

Kaysen gave them a series of short instructions, then turned back to Elena.

“Inside.”

This time, she didn’t argue.

Not because she had suddenly accepted his authority.

Because the figure beyond the fence had been watching the house.

And Kaysen had moved in front of her without a moment’s hesitation.

⸻

He led her through the side entrance into a small sitting room near the hall.

“Sit.”

Elena sat on the edge of the sofa, still trying to slow her breathing.

Kaysen locked the door and spoke briefly to the guard outside. When he turned back, his expression had returned to its usual composure.

“Did you recognize him?”

“No.”

“Did you see his face?”

“Not clearly.”

“Did he approach you at any point today?”

“No.”

He studied her for another second.

Then he crouched in front of her.

Elena froze.

“What are you doing?”

“Your hand.”

“It’s fine.”

His eyes rose to hers.

“Do you intend to say that every time I ask you a question?”

“Do you intend to interrogate me every time I leave a room?”

“Only when someone is watching you.”

He held out his hand.

“Show me.”

She hesitated, then extended her bandaged palm.

He checked the dressing once more. His fingers brushed the inside of her wrist, and she felt the contact far more sharply than she wanted to.

When he finished, he didn’t immediately stand.

He was close enough that she could see the faint shadow along his jaw and the small scar near his eyebrow.

His eyes moved to her face.

“Your breathing is still uneven.”

She straightened.

“I was startled.”

“I noticed.”

“Then stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

She swallowed.

“Like you’re waiting for me to say something stupid.”

One corner of his mouth moved—not quite a smile.

“If you say something stupid, I’ll tell you.”

Despite herself, she let out a short breath that almost became a laugh.

His gaze lingered.

And the trace of amusement vanished.

For a second, the room felt too quiet.

Elena became aware of the position of his hand beside her knee, the small space between them, and the fact that he hadn’t looked away.

She shifted back against the sofa.

Kaysen noticed.

Of course he did.

He rose slowly, straightening to his full height.

“Look at me.”

She did before she could stop herself.

His gaze held hers.

“Next time you want to walk alone, tell security where you’re going.”

She frowned.

“That’s what this is about?”

“It’s part of it.”

“And the rest?”

He was silent for a moment.

“Someone has learned your routine. I don’t intend to give them another opportunity.”

She lifted her chin.

“You could have explained that instead of ordering me around.”

“I could have.”

“Yet you didn’t.”

“No.”

His complete lack of apology left her staring at him.

Then he picked up her coat from the chair and held it open.

“Put it on.”

She looked at the coat, then at him.

“Do you ever ask?”

“Rarely.”

“I’m beginning to notice.”

“Good.”

She slid her arms into the sleeves. He settled the coat over her shoulders, then adjusted the collar when it folded awkwardly against her neck.

His fingers brushed the side of her throat.

Elena went still.

It was barely a touch.

He could have stepped away immediately.

Instead, his gaze lifted to hers, close enough that she couldn’t pretend not to notice the intensity in it.

“Hold still,” he said quietly.

Her pulse stumbled.

“I’m holding still.”

“Then why are you looking at me as if you’re about to run?”

She stared at him, stunned by the question.

“I’m not.”

“Good.”

He straightened the collar and lowered his hands.

The distance returned.

So did his cold expression.

“Let’s go.”

He opened the door and stepped aside, allowing her to leave first.

Elena walked past him, painfully aware that her heartbeat had not returned to normal.

Behind her, Kaysen spoke to the guard.

“No one enters the east wing without clearance. Double the patrols tonight.”

Then, as he caught up with her, he added in the same calm voice:

“And tomorrow, you’re not leaving the estate without me.”

She stopped walking.

“Mr. Vance—”

He looked down at her.

“You can argue in the morning.”

“And if I don’t agree?”

His expression didn’t change.

“Then you’ll have a very long morning.”

He continued down the corridor.

Elena remained where she was for a second, staring after him.

He hadn’t raised his voice once.

He hadn’t needed to.

And the most unsettling part wasn’t the stranger at the gate, or the guards rushing through the garden.

It was the memory of his fingers against her throat, the way he had looked at her when she told him she wasn’t going to run, and how close she’d come to forgetting that she was supposed to be angry with him.

She hurried after him.

Not because he had ordered her to.

At least, that was what she intended to tell herself.