6. JUST DINNER

ROWANNE'S POV

It was just dinner. That’s what I told myself over and over like saying it enough times could make it true.

Yet here I was, standing in front of my mirror, looking nothing like a woman who was just going to dinner.

The gown I’d chosen was far too short, clinging to my thighs.

The silk shimmered faintly under the light, the red soft enough to pass for innocent, though there was nothing innocent about the way it hugged my body.

My hair, loose and cascading in waves down my back, was a kind of carelessness. I’d spent nearly an hour perfecting it, running my fingers through until it fell in that effortless, seductive way that looked like I hadn’t tried at all.

The scent of my shower gel lingered on my skin, honey and peony. I had used the expensive one, the one I saved for rare occasions, the one Jett had once said made me smell like temptation itself.

My chest tightened. I pressed a hand to my heart, as if I could steady the rhythm.

“It’s just dinner,” I whispered again, but my reflection didn’t look convinced.

She looked… conflicted. Nervous and guilty. And underneath all of that, she looked alive.

It was the kind of aliveness I hadn’t felt in so long that it scared me.

I reached for my earrings, gold hoops that brushed against my neck, then added a touch of gloss. Every small movement felt indulgent. The kind of ritual a woman performed when she knew someone would be watching.

When she wanted to be watched.

My pulse stuttered at the thought. Eli’s eyes. The way they followed me.

I turned away from the mirror, grabbed my clutch, and took a deep breath before stepping toward the door.

When I stepped outside, the air was cool enough to bite, wrapping around my bare legs.

But the sight of the sleek black car waiting at the curb killed that thought almost instantly.

A tall man in a fitted suit stood by the door. “Ms Carter?”

“Yes,” I murmured, clutching my purse a little tighter.

“I’m Aaron,” he said, offering a curt nod. “Mr Carter’s assistant. He sent me to pick you up.”

The way he said Mr Carter made my stomach twist. For a second, I wasn’t sure which one he meant.

Aaron opened the door for me and I stepped inside.

I folded my hands in my lap while my heart had other plans, pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat.

When we pulled up to the restaurant, Aaron was already out, circling to my side.

“We’ve arrived, Ms Carter,” he said smoothly, opening the door once again.

“Thank you,” I whispered, stepping out. The ground beneath my heels felt too steady for how unsteady I was inside.

The restaurant was quiet and elegant with dim lighting and soft music.

Aaron led me through the narrow hall toward what looked like a private wing. My pulse quickened with every step. The space grew quieter, more intimate.

And then, there he was.

Eli sat at a table near the far corner, phone pressed to his ear, head slightly tilted as he spoke in low tones. He wore a dark suit that fit him too perfectly, the fabric catching just enough of the light to make him look carved out of something dangerous and divine.

But then he saw me.

And the world stopped moving.

He ended his call immediately, not even finishing his sentence. The faintest smile ghosted across his lips but his eyes told another story entirely.

No man, not even Jett, had ever looked at me like that.

Like I was something he shouldn’t touch but couldn’t resist. Like an angel who had fallen into his reach and he was deciding whether to worship or ruin her.

My breath caught, trembling in my chest.

Eli rose as I approached, the smooth motion. The low light from the chandelier brushed along his jaw, catching the edge of a smirk that wasn’t really a smirk just that faint, knowing curve of a man who noticed everything.

“Rowanne.” My name left his mouth like it was a secret.

I exhaled softly, forcing a smile that felt too practised. “You could’ve just texted me the address, you know.”

He ignored the remark, stepping closer. His scent reached me before his touch.

He pulled out my chair, his fingers grazing my bare shoulder for only a second. It shouldn’t have made me shiver. It did.

“Thank you,” I murmured, sitting down, though my body was far from relaxed.

He sat across from me, resting one hand loosely on the table, the other on the armrest.

The silence that followed was awkward.

“You look…” his gaze lingered.“…breathtaking.”

I smiled, feigning a lightness I didn’t feel because the truth was my insides were trembling from his gaze.

He didn’t smile back. His voice was quiet, but it hit me like a pulse. “Dangerous… breathtaking.”

The words sank into me, slow and deliberate. My pulse leapt. I brought the glass to my lips, taking a sip that was far too long, hoping the cool sting of wine could drown the heat rising in my throat.

“You invited me to dinner,” I managed, trying for composure.

He leaned back slightly with his eyes still locked on me. “Dinner’s just the excuse.”

I swallowed hard. “Excuse for what?”

“To see you,” he said simply, like that explanation should have been enough. “Without pretending we don’t remember what happened.”

My breath hitched. “Eli… what happened that night was a mistake.” My voice was softer than I wanted it to be, fragile. “I’m married to your brother even though he is gone... I still am and I accepted dinner because I thought I should clear the air... I don’t... we shouldn't do this.”

His gaze didn’t waver. “But it wasn’t a mistake,” he said, tenderly, as if saying it too harshly might break me. “You don’t have to say it, Ro. I know you replayed that night a thousand times. Every second of it.”

It was just him and me now. And damn him, he was right. I had replayed it. His touch. His voice. That kiss still lingered like smoke on my lips because no man had ever kissed me like they were obsessed with me.

I looked down, trying to steady the tremor in my hand. “We can’t— don't you get it. It can never happen. You are Jett’s younger brother. What would people say if they found out?”

“You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t wake up wishing I’d stopped you before you kissed me?”

His eyes darkened, his tone splintering between restraint and confession.

“But I didn’t,” he went on, softer now. “And I don’t regret it. I don’t regret kissing you. I want you, Rowanne.”

The sound of my name on his lips nearly undid me. I looked up slowly, meeting his gaze.

A breath left me, shaky and low. “You should regret it,” I whispered. “You should because I’m your brother’s wife. You think Jennifer would accept us? You think anyone would?”

He tilted his head slightly. “I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks. I only care what you think, peach.”

I forced myself to breathe, to find the pieces of reason scattered inside me. “I do... I care what Jennifer thinks. What they all think, Eli. I can’t do this. Not like this.”

I rose from my seat, grabbing my purse.

“We can’t see each other for a while. If this keeps happening. If it keeps coming up.”

For a moment, he didn’t move and just watched me with his expression cold and jaw tight.

Then, quietly, almost too quietly, he said, “I'll take you home.”

“No, you don't need to.”

“I wasn't asking, peach,” he said, rising. Just as he reached me. I felt his hand on my back, directing me.

I straightened.