Chapter 18: The Fire

RAYA

I didn't wait for second four.

I turned and sprinted down the damp sand, the cool ocean water splashing around my ankles, my loud laughter echoing across the empty cove. Behind me, I heard the sudden, heavy thud of his footsteps cut through the surf as he gave chase.

He caught me in three strides.

Strong, warm arms wrapped around my waist from behind, lifting me two inches off the ground before I could pull away. I gasped, spinning in his grip as he set me down, my hands instinctively landing flat against his chest to steady myself.

"Got you," he murmured.

He was looking down at me, his dark hair messy from the sea breeze, his chest rising and falling against my palms. For a second, neither of us moved. The stoic, unreadable wall he kept up in front of the world had completely melted into something relaxed, grounded, and dangerously real.

A sudden, strong gust of ocean wind whipped across the shore, carrying a heavy chill. My linen dress was already damp from the splash, and a violent shiver ran through my whole body, my teeth clicking together.

Xavier's eyes narrowed instantly, his tone shifting into something protective. "You're freezing."

Before I could tell him I was fine, he reached down, pulled his shirt over his head, and draped it over my shoulders, wrapping the thick, warm fabric around my upper body like a blanket.

It was still warm from his skin.

I pulled the collar tight around my neck and inhaled. He smelled like expensive cedarwood, sea salt, and clean soap, a rich, intoxicating scent that made my blood run hot despite the wind. I looked up at him, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was standing. The sharp, striking structure of his jaw, the subtle shadow of stubble, the intense dark of his eyes beneath the starlight.

My heart slammed against my ribs, not from running, but from a sudden, fierce jolt of electricity humming between us.

Xavier didn't step back. His thumb brushed against the edge of the shirt right below my collarbone, lingering for a fraction of a second too long.

"Let's get you back inside," he said, his voice dropping an octave lower than usual.

The ride back to the hotel was quiet, but the heavy silence felt completely different from our first night in the suite. The rigid space between us had dissolved.

When the door to the Ambassador Suite chimed and unlocked, I padded across the cool marble entryway, still wearing his shirt over my shoulders.

"Go get into a hot shower," Xavier said, unknotting his watch from his wrist and setting it on the counter. "I need to step down to the lower floor for five minutes to speak with the security detail about our morning departure."

"Okay," I said, my voice soft.

The moment the front door clicked shut behind him, I went straight into the master bathroom. I stripped out of the damp dress, turned the shower dial to steaming hot, and let the water wash away the salt and the lingering chill of the beach.

Ten minutes later, I turned off the water, completely relaxed.

Assuming I had plenty of time before he finished with his security team, I wrapped the thick, white hotel robe around myself loosely. I didn't bother tying the belt tight, just looped it once, letting the heavy plush fabric hang open, resting low past my left shoulder, exposing a broad line of my collarbone and chest. My wet hair dropped soft water droplets down my bare skin as I stepped out into the bedroom.

I didn't hear the suite door open.

I walked toward the foot of the bed, reaching for my lotion on the nightstand, completely unbothered, until I froze.

Xavier was standing right in the doorway.

He had just walked back in, a folder in one hand, his thumb resting against the doorframe.

The room went dead silent.

Xavier didn't move. He didn't blink. His dark eyes locked onto me, taking in the loose robe, the exposed line of my shoulder, and the damp skin glistening under the low bedroom lights. The sheer, primal weight of his gaze felt like a physical touch, pinning me to the floor.

My breath hitched, my whole body locking up. I knew I was completely naked under the robe, and the heat in his eyes told me he knew it, too.

For three agonizing, suffocating seconds, nobody moved. The air in the room grew impossibly thick.

Xavier slowly closed his hand into a tight fist against the doorframe. He forced his eyes up, locking onto my face, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle twitched near his ear.

"You're going to catch a cold like that, Raya," he said, his voice extremely low, dark, and rough around the edges.

"I thought you were downstairs," I whispered, my voice trembling slightly, though I made no move to pull the robe up.

"I came back early," he replied, taking a slow, deliberate breath, visibly fighting to keep his stoic composure intact. He set the folder on the dresser, deliberately turning his back to me as he pulled a fresh shirt out of his drawer. "Bathroom is yours. I'll take the second one."

He walked past me toward the adjoining washroom, but as he passed, his arm brushed lightly against mine, a wave of heat radiating off him that sent a sharp shiver down my spine.

By one in the morning, the dense, electric tension in the room had settled into a quiet, warm hum.

I was sitting on the edge of the king-sized bed in soft sweatpants and a fitted tee, drying my wet hair with a plush white towel. Xavier stepped out of the second bathroom, freshly showered, wearing loose black joggers and a dark crewneck, his wet hair pushed back off his forehead.

He walked over and sat down at the small glass desk near the window, opening his tablet.

"Are you always working?" I asked softly, setting the towel aside.

"Usually," he said, looking up at me. The harsh, guarded edge in his posture was completely gone, replaced by a quiet, comfortable presence that made the suite feel far less empty than it had a few days ago. "Though right now I'm just approving our flight manifests. We leave for Verimont at eight."

"Back to reality," I murmured, pulling my knees up to my chest.

"Reality hasn't changed, Raya," he said, his dark eyes fixing on mine across the room. "You just have better footing now."

Before I could reply, his phone on the desk lit up, vibrating hard against the glass, an incoming encrypted call from Nadia.

Xavier's brows pulled together. Nadia never called at one in the morning unless the world was ending. He tapped the speaker icon, setting the phone down on the desk.

"Report," Xavier said flatly.

"We have a catastrophic event." Nadia's voice cut through the quiet room, breathless and tight with controlled panic. "Twenty minutes ago, a massive blaze broke out at the West District logistics hub in Verimont. Portions of Terminal 4 are completely engulfed."

I sat up straight, my pulse instantly spiking. The West District hub was the crown jewel of Locke Holdings' domestic supply chain, handling over forty percent of their high-value freight.

Xavier didn't flinch, but his whole body went entirely still, his jaw setting into a brutal, rigid line. "Casualties?"

"None reported so far, the night crew evacuated," Nadia said quickly. "But local fire units are struggling to contain it. The automated suppression systems were completely offline when the fire started. Local authority is already calling it suspicious."

"Get the jet prepped immediately," Xavier said, his voice turning into sharp, lethal ice. "We're on the tarmac in forty-five minutes. Have security isolate the server logs for Terminal 4 before the precinct seals the site."

"Understood. Car's at your lobby in ten."

The line went dead.

The quiet returned to the suite, but it was shattered now, heavy with the sharp reek of trouble.

Xavier stood up from the desk in one fluid motion, snapping his tablet shut. He looked across the room at me, his eyes dark, razor-sharp, and entirely stripped of the warmth from the beach.

"Pack your bags, Raya," he said, reaching for his watch. "Someone just made this personal."