CHAPTER 8

Morgan POV

"I—I—"

I stammered as my body shook with uncontrollable shock.

"I asked you a question." His voice rose again. "Who are you and what are you doing in my meeting?"

I finally blinked. Once. Twice. Trying to make my brain work.

"I'm sorry," the words tumbled out. "Wrong room. I got the wrong room. I'm so sorry."

I didn't wait for a response.

I turned and ran.

Not walked. Ran.

Down the hallway like something was chasing me. Past the frosted glass offices. Through the door. Into the reception area that was suddenly too small and too bright.

The elevator. I needed the elevator.

I jabbed the button repeatedly. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely hit it.

Come on. Come on. Come on.

The doors finally opened and I threw myself inside. Pressed the button for the lobby. Pressed it again and again until the doors closed.

No. No. No.

This couldn't be happening.

Sterling and Vale was Cross Enterprises. Damien's company. How could it be?

The man whose children were back at the apartment waiting for me to come home.

My chest was tight. I couldn't breathe properly. The elevator walls felt like they were closing in.

When the doors opened to the lobby, I practically ran out. Headed straight for the entrance. For escape. For anywhere that wasn't here.

"Morgan!"

Kathy's voice stopped me halfway across the lobby.

She came running up, slightly out of breath, her face flushed with excitement.

"There you are! I finally found where we're supposed to be. The meeting room is on the seventeenth floor, not the fifteenth. No wonder we were confused. Come on, we're already late and—"

"No." I kept walking toward the door.

"What? Morgan, wait—"

"We're leaving. We're leaving right now."

"What are you talking about?" She caught my arm, forcing me to stop. "We can't leave. The meeting—"

"I don't care about the meeting." My voice came out too loud. Too frantic. "Please, Kathy. Please, let's just go."

"Morgan, what happened?" Her expression shifted from confusion to concern. "What's wrong? Did something—"

"Please." I could hear the desperation in my own voice. "Please, let's just go. We'll figure it out later. We'll call them. We'll explain. But I can't be here. I can't—"

"Okay. Okay." Kathy's alarm was written all over her face. She'd never seen me like this. Erratic. Panicked. Falling apart. "We'll go. It's fine. We'll just—"

"Ms. Hayes?"

The voice came from behind us.

Every muscle in my body locked.

No. Please, no.

I turned slowly.

Damien stood ten feet away. Jennifer, the woman from yesterday, stood beside him. They must have taken a different elevator. Must have come down right after me.

He looked calmer now. Composed. The anger from upstairs was gone, replaced with professional courtesy.

But his eyes. Those gray eyes were studying me with an intensity that made my skin burn.

"Ms. Hayes," he said again, moving closer. "I apologize for my behavior upstairs. I was in the middle of a difficult negotiation and I took my frustration out on you. That was unprofessional."

He was apologizing. Actually apologizing.

Like I was a stranger. Like he didn't know me.

Because he didn't.

Six years. Two children. A completely different life.

And he had no idea who I was.

"I'm Damien Cross." He extended his hand toward Kathy first. "CEO of Cross Enterprises. And you must be Kathy Chen, the manager we've been communicating with."

"Yes. Hi. Hello." Kathy shook his hand, her eyes wide like she was meeting a celebrity. "It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Cross."

"Please, call me Damien." He smiled. That same smile I remembered from the plane. Charming. Disarming. Dangerous. "And this must be Morgan Hayes."

He turned to me. Extended his hand.

I stared at it like it was a weapon.

Take it. You have to take it. Act normal. Act like you don't know him.

My hand moved. Touched his.

The moment our skin connected, everything ignited.

A zap of electricity shot up my arm. Through my chest. Down to my toes. My breath caught in my throat.

It was exactly like six years ago. That first touch on the plane when I'd grabbed his arm during takeoff. That feeling of recognition. Of something clicking into place.

Of fate being cruel.

His warmth flooded through me. His scent—expensive cologne and something uniquely him—wrapped around me like a memory I couldn't escape.

The feeling I'd felt on that plane came rushing back with brutal force. That pull. That inexplicable attraction that had made me kiss a stranger and upend my entire life.

My legs shook.

Actually shook.

I started to pull my hand back but his grip tightened. Just slightly. Just enough to steady me.

To keep me from falling.

"Are you okay?" His voice had changed. Softer now. Concerned.

His eyes searched my face like he was trying to place me. Like somewhere in the back of his mind, something was familiar.

But he didn't recognize me.

Not really.

I was just another woman having a reaction to his touch. Another person falling under the spell of Damien Cross.

"I'm fine," I managed. My voice sounded hollow. Distant. "Just... it's been a long morning."

"Of course." He finally released my hand. The loss of contact felt like a punishment. "Why don't we start over? Jennifer here will take you up to the correct meeting room. We have a presentation prepared about the campaign. I think you'll be impressed with what we have planned."

"That sounds wonderful," Kathy said, jumping in when I couldn't form words.

Damien's eyes were on me, studying me as though I was some experiment.

"Ms. Hayes, I really am sorry about earlier. I hope that won't color your impression of Cross Enterprises. We're very excited to have you on board for this project."

"It's fine," I whispered. "I understand."

Lies. All lies. Nothing about this was fine.

Nothing about this was going to work.

But I couldn't run, or leave. Because Kathy's career was on the line. Because I'd signed a contract. Because backing out now would raise questions I couldn't answer.

So I stood there. Feeling his eyes on me, feeling that strange pull between us that hadn't faded despite six years and two children and a lifetime of change.

And I prayed he never looked close enough to see the truth.