5: Other Woman

She opened her mouth, but no words came. Her skin prickled with heat.

He pulled the car to a stop and turned to her fully. "If you ever decide you want something from me, I appreciate transparency." He leaned closer, close enough that she could smell his cologne. "Just tell me what you want. I'm very… accommodating."

She stared at him, heart pounding, lips parted.

"Here we are," he announced, pulling back smoothly as if nothing had happened. "I hope you're hungry."

He wasn't. Not for food. And the look in his eyes told her exactly that.

They arrived at the restaurant moments later. Cyprus handed his keys to the valet without a second glance and gestured for Olivia to follow him inside.

A hostess greeted him by name and immediately led them past the main dining area to a private room at the back. Soft amber light glowed from wall sconces, reflecting off polished wood and crisp white linen.

Olivia’s steps slowed as she took it in. It was intimate in a way that made her skin prickle. What was she thinking, agreeing to breakfast?

Cyprus pulled out a chair and sat. Olivia waited until he was settled before taking the opposite seat, deliberately leaving space between them. She crossed her legs, folded her hands in her lap, and sternly told herself to get a grip.

A server entered moments later, greeting them brightly and handing them menus. Cyprus ordered a full English breakfast without hesitation. Olivia, suddenly aware of how tight her chest felt, opted for sandwiches and coffee. The server smiled and promised their food would arrive in fifteen minutes before slipping out again.

The door had barely closed when Olivia felt the unmistakable sensation of being watched. She lifted her gaze to find Cyprus studying her, his expression unreadable. Seconds stretched, thick and heavy, until her nerves snapped.

Her discomfort sharpened into irritation. “What?” she demanded. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

He didn’t look away. “Have we met before?”

Her heart lurched violently. “No,” she said instantly, far too quickly. “Of course not.”

Something flickered in his eyes. “Let me rephrase,” he said quietly. “We have met before.”

Olivia slid her hands into her lap, curling her fingers together to hide how they were beginning to tremble. “What makes you think that?” she asked, carefully neutral.

Cyprus leaned back, studying her like a puzzle he was close to solving. “In the conference room,” he said slowly, “when you told me to stop speaking to Victor the way I was, you addressed me as Mr. Blackwell.”

Her heart dropped.

“I hadn’t told you my name yet,” he continued evenly. “And Victor never used it when he came in.”

The air seemed to thin, making it harder to breathe. She had been careless.

He looked almost… pleased. “So,” he said softly, voice dipping lower, “would you like to explain that?”

Olivia cursed herself viciously. The slip had been instinctive. She had been too angry to think. Her silence stretched too long.

“Did we spend a night together?” he asked, his voice roughening. “On one of my overseas trips recently?”

Olivia let out a sharp, humorless scoff. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she snapped. “I wouldn’t touch you if you were the last man on earth.”

Instead of bristling, Cyprus looked amused. He leaned closer, invading her space. “I don’t think that’s true,” he murmured. “I haven’t missed the way you’ve been undressing me with your eyes since the moment you walked into that conference room.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?” His gaze dropped to her mouth, then lifted again. “I think you want me very much. Even if you’re lying about not having met me before.”

Her mouth opened to deny it but the words never came, because suddenly he was suddenly there in front of her.

His hands framed her face, warm and firm, thumbs brushing her jaw. Before she could react, before she could remember all the reasons she despised him, his lips parted hers.

The kiss was nothing like she expected. Fire raced along her skin, a shock of sensation that left her breathless. Her body betrayed her instantly, leaning into him, responding as though it had been waiting for this. A soft sound escaped her before she could stop it, her fingers clutching at his jacket as his hands slid to her waist, drawing her closer.

The world narrowed to heat and breath and the dizzying familiarity of his touch. For a moment, she forgot everything and then he pulled back. Olivia blinked, dazed, her lips tingling and swollen.

Cyprus studied her face, his eyes dark with satisfaction. A low chuckle left him as his thumb brushed over her lower lip.

“If going to bed with you is half as enjoyable as that kiss,” he murmured, “I don’t know why I’m letting you sit here with me as my client instead of my lover.”

The words shattered the moment like glass. Reality crashed back in with brutal force. Humiliation, anger, and old hurt rose together inside, burning away the lingering pleasure from his kiss.

Olivia tore herself from his grasp, her hand flying up before she could think. The sound echoed loudly in the room as her palm connected with his cheek.

The skin of her palm tingled as they stared at each other. Olivia expected Cyprus to give in to anger at being slapped but instead, there was a shine of desire in his eyes, as if he wanted to kiss her again.

The door of the private dining room slammed open, startling Olivia and making her jump away from Cyprus. A beautiful woman with flaming red hair falling down to her waist stood in the doorway, dressed in an elegant cream jumpsuit. She looked at Olivia with open disgust before turning her blazing eyes on Cyprus.

“There you are,” she said with mocking anger, her voice high. "You won't answer my calls. You refuse to see me." Her gaze cut back to Olivia. "All because you're in here kissing some whore."

Olivia’s blood turned to ice.

Fuck.