CHAPTER 6

Cleo

The man who walked into the conference room was the last person I expected to see. My fingers tightened around the pen in my hand as my pulse thudded hard beneath my ribs.

This couldn’t be happening. Of all the men in New York, why did it have to be him?

The stranger from that night. The man whose face I had spent the past three weeks trying so hard to forget.

He was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit. His expression was cold and unreadable, his posture straight and confident, as if the entire room belonged to him. He looked even more intimidating in the daylight.

“Good afternoon,” he said as he took his place at the head of the table.

His voice sent an unwanted shiver through me.

“I apologize for keeping you all waiting.”

The woman who had spoken earlier stepped forward.

“Mr. Voss, this is Miss Cleo Marsh, representing Marsh Textiles. And this is their legal adviser, Mr. Bennett.”

Our eyes finally met, and for a brief moment, I thought I saw something flicker in those grey eyes. Or maybe I was imagining it.

I silently prayed he hadn’t recognized me.

The woman turned to the other side of the table and continued with the introductions. “And this is Mr. Reynolds and Ms. Carter from our legal team.”

Xavier gave them a brief nod before she continued.

“And, of course, our CEO, Mr. Xavier Voss.” She gestured toward him as she spoke.

“Thank you, Claire,” he said, offering her a small smile.

My stomach tightened.

Xavier Voss.

So that was his name.

He held my gaze for another second before turning his attention to the rest of the room.

“Let’s get started,” he said, opening the folder in front of him.

The meeting began with introductions and a brief overview of Marsh Textiles. Xavier asked detailed questions, his tone calm and professional. He was confident, direct, and observant.

I spoke when necessary, answering questions about our operations, recent losses, and our plans for expansion. Thankfully, my voice sounded steadier than I felt.

Every time I looked up from my documents, I seemed to find his eyes on me. I told myself it was nothing. He was simply listening, but the way his gaze lingered on me made it difficult to concentrate.

I tried desperately to push the thought of that night out of my mind, but sitting across from him made it almost impossible.

After nearly two hours of negotiations, both sides finally agreed on the terms, and the meeting came to an end.

We had done it. Marsh Textiles was going to survive. I let out a quiet breath as relief washed over me. As the room began to clear, I quickly gathered my documents, eager to get out of there before my nerves completely betrayed me.

I left the conference room without looking back. For the first time since Xavier had walked in, I felt like I could finally breathe. By the time I returned to my office at Marsh Textiles, I had almost convinced myself that I had imagined the tension between us. He had been professional throughout the meeting. So had I. There was no reason to overthink anything.

I placed my documents on my desk and sank into my chair, letting out a long breath. A few hours later, there was a knock on my office door.

“Come in.”

The door opened, and my assistant Samantha stepped inside.

“Miss Marsh?”

“Yes?”

“Mr. Xavier Voss is here to see you.”

I stared at her.

“Xavier Voss?”

She nodded. “He’s waiting outside.”

My stomach tightened. Why was he here? The merger was done. We had agreed on the terms, and there was nothing left for us to discuss. At least, nothing that required him to come all the way to my office.

“Did he say what he wants?”

“No. He just asked to speak with you.”

I hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Okay. Send him in.”

Samantha stepped out. A few seconds later, the door opened again, and Xavier walked in. He was still dressed in the same dark suit, his expression calm and unreadable.

My fingers curled around the edge of the desk.

“Mr. Voss.”

“Miss Marsh.” He closed the door behind him.

Neither of us spoke for a moment.

Then his gaze settled on me. “Why do you look so nervous?”

“I’m not nervous,” I said, trying to convince myself more than him.

One corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “If you say so.” He walked toward the chairs in front of my desk but didn’t sit. “There’s something we need to discuss.”

My stomach sank. “About the merger?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his gaze drifted around my office, taking in the room as though he suddenly found everything in it interesting. “Among other things.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, sitting a little straighter in my chair.

He turned his attention back to me. His gaze lingered on my face for a moment before dropping briefly to my lips. When his eyes met mine again, there was a knowing look in them.

“I think you know exactly what I mean.”

Fuck.

He remembered.

My throat suddenly felt dry. I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening around the edge of my desk. “Look …” I began, deciding it was better to address it before things became even more awkward. “If you’re referring to that night, we were both drunk and neither of us was thinking clearly. I just hope we can leave it in the past and keep things professional.”

A faint grin tugged at his lips. “You don’t have to worry about that. What happened between us has no bearing on our professional relationship.”

A wave of relief washed over me, easing the tension in my chest.

“However,” he said, pulling out one of the chairs before taking a seat, “there is something else I want to discuss with you.”

“Okay, what is it?”

His grey eyes locked onto mine. He didn’t look away. Neither did I. For a few seconds, the only sound in the room was the faint hum of the air conditioning.

Then he spoke. “Will you be my girlfriend?.”