LOGINEvelyn POVMy back arched sharply off the bed. My hand slammed against the headboard, gripping it, and the other found his hair, fingers twisting into the dark strands. He worked me slowly, thoroughly, with a patience and attention to detail that bordered on cruelty. His tongue moved in long, deliberate strokes, finding every sensitive spot and returning to it, building pressure with a rhythm that he adjusted every time my body told him something, and my body was telling him everything.I couldn't think. I couldn't form words. The world narrowed to the point of contact between his mouth and my body, and everything else dissolved. My hips moved against him, matching his rhythm, and he let me, his hands steady on my thighs, holding me open, holding me exactly where he wanted me.The tension built in waves. Each one higher than the last, each one pulling me closer to an edge I could feel but couldn't reach. He took me to the brink and held me there, easing back every time I was about to
Evelyn POVThe kiss was not like the one we'd share in the car. It was like the gentle, careful acknowledgement of two people navigating complicated feelings.This was the kiss he'd been holding back since I'd opened the front door three hours ago in a burgundy dress with a bare back and perfume that you had to lean in to smell. This was weeks of distance, regret, and wanting compressed into a single point of contact, and it hit me like a wall.His mouth was hot and demanding, his thumbs pressing against my cheekbones as he tilted my head back, deepening the kiss before I'd even finished processing the first one. My clutch fell from my fingers and hit the hallway floor. My hands grabbed the front of his shirt, fisting the fabric, pulling him inside.He stepped through the doorway without breaking the kiss. His foot kicked the door shut behind him, and the slam echoed through the hallway. Biscuit yelped from the living room and scrambled away, his tiny claws clicking frantically across
Evelyn POVThe drive home was quieter than the drive there, but it was a different kind of quiet.The silence at the start of the evening had been loaded, tangled up with Vincent's tulips and my guilt and the weight of everything unspoken. This silence was warm and comfortable. The kind you only get with someone after the hard conversations have already been had and you're both just sitting in the relief of having survived them.Dinner had been extraordinary. Not just the food, though the food had been absurd. A seven-course tasting menu that included things I couldn't pronounce and flavours I didn't know existed. A wine pairing chosen by a sommelier who spoke to each bottle like it was a personal friend. Dessert was a dark chocolate something with gold leaf and a berry reduction that tasted like it had been invented specifically to make people close their eyes and moan.But it was the conversation that had made the evening. Gabriel, when he decided to actually let someone in, was fun
Evelyn POVI told him about firing the six employees.He told me I should have let him handle Gregory Hart, and when I asked what "handle" meant, he just smiled and changed the subject.I told him about Biscuit barking at the hairdryer. He told me the breeder had warned him the dog was "spirited," which was apparently code for "will attempt to eat every shoe you own."I told him about Grace producing a water bowl from her desk drawer without being asked, and he said Grace sounded like the kind of person who should be running a country, not an office."She's getting promoted," I said. "Managing Director. We're announcing it at the Green Valley launch.""Does she know?""Not yet," I shook my head."She'll cry.""She'll absolutely cry, and then she'll complain about me overdoing or overstressing about things I shouldn't concern myself with.Gabriel laughed again. The sound was becoming addictive. It changed his face completely, stripped away the severity and the shadows and left behind s
Evelyn POVA smile spread across my face before I could stop it. Of course, he was exactly on time. Gabriel Ross was many things. Unpredictable, dangerous, infuriatingly guarded. But he was never late.I grabbed my clutch, slipped on my heels, a simple pair of black stilettos that added three inches to my height, and hurried to the front door. The puppy, whom I'd started calling Biscuit in my head even though I hadn't committed to the name yet, scrambled after me from the living room, his tiny claws clicking on the hardwood."Stay," I told him. He sat, tail wagging, looking deeply offended at being excluded.I opened the door, and the sight I saw nearly made me faint. Two men stood on my porch.Gabriel was on the left. In a dark suit, no tie, white shirt unbuttoned at the collar. His dark hair was pushed back from his face, and his jaw was freshly shaved. He held a bouquet of deep red peonies in one hand, the stems wrapped in black paper. Vincent was on the right. Camel coat over a
Evelyn POVI'd been staring at my wardrobe for forty-five minutes, and somehow I had less clothing now than when I started.Dresses lay across my bed in a small mountain of rejected options.The red one was too obvious. The black one was too safe. The green one made me look like I was attending a corporate gala, and the white slip dress made me look like I was attending... well, not dinner.I'd tried on a blouse-and-trouser combination that looked like I was headed to a board meeting, a wrap dress that felt too casual, and a bodycon number that Belle had talked me into buying six months ago that I'd never had the nerve to actually wear in public.This was ridiculous. I was a grown woman. I ran a company. I'd fired six people this morning without breaking a sweat, and now I was having a meltdown over what to wear to dinner.But this wasn't just dinner.This was dinner with Gabriel Ross. The man who'd sent me a puppy this morning. The man who'd slept with me and then pushed me away. The
EvelynMy hands came up to grip his sweater, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened and became more urgent.His hands circled the small of my neck, pulling me closer as his tongue darted in and out of my mouth. Our tongues danced together, exploring each other’s mouths in a slow rhythm that left us
Evelyn POVI stood in the small backroom of the Crescent Harbour Public Hall, staring at my reflection in the long mirror. A woman looked back at me—one wearing light makeup, a simple, deep red dress, and her hair pinned neatly behind her ears. She looked calm.But inside, I was anything but.My he
Evelyn POVI walked into my penthouse bedroom with a heavy sigh and loosened my tie like it was choking me. My head had been pounding since morning, and the silence of the room did nothing to help.I shrugged out of my suit jacket and let it fall carelessly on the nearest chair. I was exhausted.No
Gabriel POV"Who sent you?" I asked, striking the man tied to the chair.The overhead lamp was the only light in the dark room, casting shadows across his bruised face. His left eye was swollen shut, and blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.The man's face lolled to the right, and then he sta







